#john walkins

[veganstrider]

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[runnning-outof-time]

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests weren’t exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[devil-in-hiding]

I'm having a real bad day... Feels like I'm losing my grasp on literally everything; mentally, financially, emotionally, with my family, etc... Just want you to know that reading through your fics gives me just enough of an escape to get through the day... So, thanks for existing. <3 If you have any 141 x female reader fluff/comfort bouncing around in your head I'd love to read it. 🥺

(I genuinely hope things start to look up for you babe and that your day gets better, it’s still early 🫶🏻. I understand that feeling all too well and it can be overwhelming and overstimulating because your brain is sending panic signals every other second, i’m sending you big hugs)

how about some soft 141 x assistant reader? *doesn’t look at my price x emotional!reader everyone has screamed at for more*

The day had already started terribly, it was a downpour outside, and your car had refused to start that morning. Some jackass didn’t have the decency to slow down, soaking you more on your mad dash towards the base. Your foot slipped off the curb more than once and your ankle was throbbing as you limped your way towards John’s office, defeated and embarrassed.

You would have laughed at the shocked faces, and Ghost’s wide eyes, if it weren’t for your chattering teeth and tears blurring your vision.

“I-I’m s-sorry I’m l-late sir, my car-“

“Bloody hell woman why didn’t you call me?” John grouses, standing from his desk as he sends the boys running with a flick of his wrist. “Towels!”

“Aye!”

“On it Cap!”

Gaz and Soap make a mad dash down the corridor, and Ghost hovers next to you. “How’d you like your tea this mornin’ lovie?” He asks, voice gentle and you feel your lip tremble. “Just anything hot. Thank you Lieutenant.”

He just nods, striding out the door and towards the rec room, and when you turn back around, John is rummaging in one of his drawers. “You should have called my pretty. I would have come and picked you up myself. Walkin’ in the rain like that, what were you thinking?” It’s an affectionate scolding as he takes a shirt and pajama pants (how long had those been there? That damn man was he sleeping in his office again?)

“Here ya are lass, let’s get ye cleaned up.” Soap announces, wrapping a towel around your shoulders as Gaz turns you around, grinning as he places a towel on your head, gently drying your hair.

“Little wet rat.” He snickers, and you gasp, slapping his chest as you cross your arms.

“Arse, how could you say that after I’ve had such an awful morning?” You pout, and he chuckles. “Got that sad look out your eye didn’t I?”

“Oh very cheeky Garrick.” You glare, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

“Bleedin’ Jesus hen, what happened to ye ankle?” Soap grunts, crouching down and you wince when he pokes the tender skin around your ankle bone.

“I must have rolled it-“

“You are never walkin’ ‘ere in the bloody rain again, understand?” Ghost states as he reenters the office, mug in hand.

He’s ushering you off your feet in seconds, herding you towards Price’s couch, laying out a towel he plucked from the pile before easing you down.

It was a funny sight, four large, highly trained military men, crouching around you as they inspected your ankle. “Gonna have to cut it.” Price says solemnly, and you choke back a snort as you giggle, covering your mouth at the somber nod the other three give.

“Aye, not much to do about a rolled ankle lass. Desperate times an all.”

“You all are idiots.” You laugh, shaking your head at the pleased looks that spread across their faces.

“There she is.”

[majinbangus]

idc :)

"Feelin' a bit mouthy today, Sergeant?"

That should have been your first hint to shut up.

"Just showing initiative, Captain. You know. Making sound assessments. Like most leaders would be able to do."

He turns his whole body to face you. That should have been your second hint to shut the fuck up. "Better watch yourself, kit. That mouth'll get you in trouble."

"Trouble worse than the one we're already in?" You can't help but snark with a disrespectful- foolish- roll of the eyes. Not like you'll have a future to worry about by the way things are going, hunkered down and surrounded by hostiles.

"Aye, because when we live through this," Captain MacTavish's hand shoots out to grip your nape and forces you look at him, "I'll personally see to it you won't be walkin' any time soon."

You know that look. You know that it means for your ass if you make it out of this like John believes you will. You know it'll be a bitch to sit down for a week or two. It should make the warning bells go off. Should make you defer to him without question. Yet you've always been one to play with fire.

You smirk. "But you're not gonna do anything about my mouth, sir?"

The scowl deepens and the smirk leaves your face with a squeak when his grip tightens, jerking you closer. Your palms hit his chest and he leans in, baring his teeth at you. "Trust me, kit, your mouth will get exactly what it deserves."

You gulp, bells ringing.

It would probably be wise to shut up now.

(Reinforcements arrive, taking you back home alive and relatively unharmed. For a brief, idiotic second you think you're safe. Until Captain MacTavish holds true to his promise and drags you off to his quarters by the scruff of your neck before you can avoid punishment.

An endless amount of spanks, a thorough throat fucking, and getting your ass used until only he gets to finish later, you learn your lesson about keeping your mouth shut.

For about a month or two.

But that's okay, Captain MacTavish doesn't mind drilling the lesson into you until it sticks.)

[aizawaz]

Task Force 141 headcanons ; ass or tits

Trying to post somewhat consistently, so have this!!

Warnings: afab!reader , butt stuff (oral , fingering , plugs) , impact play , praise & degradation , brief mommy kink (I’m not sorry) , dirty talk , all the good stuff!

! NSFW under the cut !

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley - Tits

Simon is a man that definitely enjoys larger breasts, but ultimately he’s a ‘boobs are boobs’ guy. He’s addicted to the way your plush flesh spills over the cups of your bra (he bought it for you) that fits just a little too small for your taste (he did that on purpose).

Low-cut shirts are Simon’s favourite, he takes them almost as a challenge to see how long he can stare before his dick is hard and he’s all over you. He can never last more than a few minutes, eventually shoving his large and cold hands beneath your shirt to paw at your “perfect fuckin’ tits, dovey. Can’t help but touch ‘em.”

Titty slapper. 100%. Does it as a form of punishment if you were being particularly bratty that day, starting with firm taps to get you riled up before fully administering the punishment. He’s not entirely gentle with it either, slapping until your tits are red and you’re looking all sorry ‘n teary-eyed at him. Even then, Simon doesn’t budge. If anything, he gets crueler, now pinching and pulling on your sore nipples. “C’mon, y’can take it like a big girl, can’t ya?”

Cpt. John Price - Ass

Has a thing for buttplugs, especially if they can vibrate. The first time John turned it on while deep in your pussy, he felt his entire spine tingle and was emptying his balls into you in seconds. Was hooked ever since but never uses it often. Likes to press down on the base with his thumb when it’s buried in your ass, gruffly chuckling when your hips jerk away.

John is a simple man, he sees you with a skirt on and he’s sauntering over to slip his rugged hands beneath the flimsy fabric and grab a handful. Not wearing any panties underneath? Even better, makes everything easier for him. He fondles your ass like it’s nothing but putty, looking over your shoulder to observe how malleable you are and groaning in your ear the whole time. “Hope you weren’t goin’ anywhere looking like this, love. Can’t have anyone lookin’ at what’s mine.”

Similar to Simon, John uses spanking as a punishment. However, he’s not easing you into it like Simon. As soon as his patience is tested, he’s bending you over his knee to teach you a lesson. Don’t expect to leave his lap until his handprint is welted in your skin, angry and red and just the way John likes it. “Maybe next time you’ll be obedient and listen to your Captain, yeah?”

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish - Ass

Johnny’s an ass eater, I gotta say it. He adores the soft squeal you make when his tongue strays from your drenched pussy to instead prod and lick at your asshole. He’s absolutely filthy with it too, slurping and huffing like a starved animal because the taste of you drives Johnny absolutely mad.

He will slip in a finger or thumb while he’s hitting it in doggy, it always makes you clench so much tighter around his cock and Johnny swears he goes dumb for a second when he feels it. “Christ, bonnie. Y’like me playin’ with your li’l ass, huh? Greedy li’l thing.”

Wear yoga pants/shorts around this man and you’re not leaving without him getting a good feel. Comes up behind you and presses his already hard dick into you, grinding against and delivering a sharp slap to your ass. His hands are merciless, groping and squeezing your pliant skin all while murmuring under his breath about how you’re “just askin’ to be fucked, walkin’ around like tha’.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick - Tits

Kyle would live between your boobs if he could, no matter the size. As long as he has something to latch his lips to, he has zero complaints. He could spend hours just kissing and sucking your tits if you’d let him, thinks it’s so intimate feeling how your nipple pebbles against his tongue and your heart hammers against his lips.

Push-up bras are Kyle’s bread and butter, they get him so hard and if you pair it with a low-cut shirt he’s cumming in his pants the moment his eyes find your cleavage. He cannot stop staring either, watching every delicious jiggle of your perky boobs as you do mundane tasks around the apartment. “Fuck, babe, you’re drivin’ crazy. I swear you’re doin’ it on purpose.”

Kyle is his most vulnerable when he has your tits in his mouth, and he’s not ashamed to admit that. Having Kyle in your lap, stroking his weeping cock and whispering soft praises into his ear as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, gets him closer to heaven than anything else. “You have the prettiest tits, momma. Love you so much.”

© aizawaz on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[katabay]

Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest--

alright! so! early robin hood ballads and narratives don't have an origin story for little john, but a later ballad (robin hood and little john) does. they fight on a bridge in it, but I like looking at illustrations, so I've swapped out the bridge for that tree peaking out of the panel in the first panel bc I enjoy louis rhead's illustrations a lot.

this is some kind of introduction scene after they fight and climb out of the river!

Robin Hood & Little John (edited by Stephen Knight & Thomas Ohlgren)

[lustnhim]

' rubberneckin ' — john carpenter x fem! reader

note: requested / warnings: p in v sex, fingering, age-gap, elvis calls reader ‘little one’, breeding kink, very unprofessional doctor carpenter, based on the scene in ‘change of habit’ where that girl is trying to seduce him, prob typos n' grammar issues. / summary: doctor carpenter lets you have your way.

John hesitated before opening the examination room, he already knew who was in there. A pretty young thing that had come every other week complainin’ about every little thing that bothered her. He knew what it was, he had a few patients that were oddly insistent on seeing him- but with you, it was entirely something else. You were infatuated with him, and John found it  the cutest darn thing. Clearing his throat he opened the door. “Well hello again, little un’...”  He draws watching as you immediately correct your posture once he walks in, very visibly perking up. “Hi Doctor!” You coo as he puts on his stethoscope. “What seems to be the issue this week, honey?” he asks, standing in front of you, a coy smirk on his face. “Well, I was walkin’ home from the store n’ I started to feel real dizzy…” You explained, staring into his face. Those pretty blue eyes. Lord, he was gorgeous. “Dizzy huh? Well that’s no good.” He said, putting the stethoscope in his ears before walking closer. “Go on an’ open your blouse a bit, honey.” He says calmly, even if what he says is standard- it always makes your heart skip a bit. Your body shivers when the cool metal presses against your warm skin, his hand resting beside your leg. You can't help but let out a small gasp, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. "Your heartbeat seems a little fast," John remarks, listening for a few more seconds before pulling away and letting the stethoscope hang around his neck. “You drinkin’ enough water? It’s been awfully hot this past week, maybe you’re dehydrated.” He explains, his eyes raking over you. Lord, you don’t do a good job hiding the fact you're infatuated with him, your face is about as red as a tomato. “Well what do I do about that?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, acting dumb. “You drink some water. Plain an’ simple.” He says before taking his hand and placing it on the side of your cheek. “Feelin’ a bit warm too.” He says, moving it up to your forehead before clearing his throat and moving his hand down to rest on your thigh. “Hm, you might actually be sick…” he starts and suddenly you tense. “Oh! Ah, with what doc?” You ask, concern laced in your voice. “I’m afraid I don’t know yet…but I’m thinkin’ it’s something awfully serious.” John sees the concern in your eyes, and he can't help but chuckle. "Don't worry,I'll take good care of you." He says, his hand sliding off your thigh. You let out a low whimper not wanting him to move. "I think you need a thorough examination. " He says, his voice low. You look up at him, concern turning to confusion– a thorough examination? Was…was he serious? “W-what do you mean by that…?” You ask and he chuckles, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Well honey, if my suspicions are correct then you need some takin’ care of..” He walks over to the examination table, placing a hand on your chest and moving you to lay down. “Hearts racing again.” He quips, smirking at you. “John…” You whimper and he shushes you. “Now, now- you need ta’ relax. You’re not feelin’ well right?” You nod and John wastes no time, his hands moving to unbutton the rest of your blouse and pulling off your bra. "Just lie back and let me take care of you," he coos, his hands caressing your soft skin. His fingers dance over your nipples making them harden. You moan softly, arching your back to press your chest into his touch. "Look at you, I think this is workin’" he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

John's hands continue their exploration, trailing down your body before resting on your hips. You try to lean up from the table but he pushes you right back down. "Ah, ah…Lay down little un’...we ain’t done yet.. We gotta see what's goin' on down here." He murmurs, his fingers toying with the waistband of your skirt- you always wore one when you went to see him. You shiver in anticipation as he pulls it off, revealing your lace panties. "Awe…these just fa’ me?” He teases and you whimper in embarrassment. “M-maybe…” You hear him laugh as he hooks his fingers under the elastic band and pulls your panties down, exposing your most cunt. "Lord have mercy, you're already so wet for me." He whispers, running a finger along your slit. You gasp and squirm beneath his touch, “John…please.” You groan, as he presses his thumb against your clit. John continues to tease you, circling your clit with his thumb and sliding two fingers into your dripping wet cunt. You moan and writhe beneath him, your body aching for more. "You like that, little one?" He asks, his voice husky with desire. "I can tell you do...your body's beggin' for it." He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his thumb continuing to work your sensitive nub. The combination of his skilled touch and dirty talk has you on the edge in no time. Just as you're about to come, he pulls his hand away, leaving you desperate. “You know, you ain’t very secretive honey..” he coos, and you can hear his belt rattling. “Comin’ in here every week in the smallest little skirts, sayin’ how bad you’ve been feelin’...” You dare not lean up, you stay lying down as his hands grip your thighs and spread your legs farther, his body sliding between them. “I know what you need honey…an’ I’m gonna give it to ya.” He climbs onto the table, straddling your hips as he towers over you and you can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Finally you get to see his face, his hair is a mess- like he’d been running his hands through it,  His pretty blue eyes are dark and needy, his lips pouting and his breathing heavy. He practically smashes his face into yours, his lips capturing yours and it doesn't take long before his tongue is halfway down your throat, the two of you kissing like it's your last day on earth. 

Once he pulls away from your mouth a string of salvia still connects your tongues. “Fuck. I’m gonna make ya’ feel so good, little un’.” he says as he adjusts himself, aligning his cock with your entrance. You feel the tip of his hard cock nudging against your soaked entrance, and you can't help but moan in anticipation. “Fuck…c’mon- I need it…" you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. He chuckles, his hot breath tickling your neck as he plants a trail of kisses along your jawline. "You need this, huh? You need me to fill you up and make you feel good," he whispers, his voice a low growl. Without warning, he thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside your tight, wet heat. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight.” John groans, almost like he’s surprised by the fact– his hips start to move in a steady rhythm, driving his cock in and out of your eager body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounds into you, the examination table creaking under the force of his thrusts. "That's it, little one," he says, his breath hot against your ear. "Take it all. Feel every inch of my cock filling you up." His words send a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but clamp around him. “Fuck! I-I’m gonna fill you up honey…gonna fuckin’ cum deep inside of you.” He groans. Your body is entirely at his mercy, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as you urge him on. With each thrust, his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit, adding to the intense sensations that consume you. Your hands roam over his strong, muscular back, and you can feel the beads of sweat forming as he continues to pound into you.Just when you think it can't possibly get any better, John's hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in fast, circular motions. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching."Oh god, I'm getting close," you whimper, your body trembling. "Please don't stop, John. I need it so badly."He groans in response, his hips moving even faster, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. "Fuck, you needed this so bad didn’t you? Needed to be bread so bad, huh?" he growls, his fingers continuing to work your clit.All you can do is moan in response, your mind completely lost in the throes of passion as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your body is on fire, your nerves so sensitive that even the slightest movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Damn, you're so tight," John praises again, his hips jerking erratically as he grows closer to his own release. "I'm gonna fill you up, little one. You're gonna feel every last drop of my cum inside you." All you can do is nod frantically and moan, it’s like you're drunk off his cock.  John groans, his hips slamming into you one final time as he finds his own release. You can feel his hot, sticky cum spurting deep inside you, filling you up just like he promised. He collapses on top of you, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. Once you've both come down from your high, John slowly pulls out of you, his softening cock slipping free from your well-used cunt. You watch as he sits up, gathering his clothes and putting them back on with a satisfied smirk on his face."See, little one? I told ya I'd take good care of you," he says, buttoning up his shirt. You smile up at him, feeling content and sated. "Thank you, Doctor Carpenter. I feel much better now." He chuckles, helping you sit up and handing you your shirt. 

"Glad to hear that, honey. Now, make sure you come see me often, I’d like to keep my eye on you…"

i hope you guys liked this!!! i should write for his characters more often it’s so so much fun :3 also the halloween fic will probably be the next fic to come out since i really want it to be perfect! love y’all <3

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @callieselvisobsessed @eapep @auntbee22 @elvisiana @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @louisejoy86 @cherrycolaride @sloppyzengarden @faeolwen @slayingjd @iloveelvisss @theelvisprincess @fairybloodsucker

[reaching-writing]

In A Week

His throat felt tight. He scowled, shaking his head, and took a breath. It wouldn’t matter, soon enough. Either he would fix everything or he would die. Simple logic. Either way, it would cease to be a problem before long.

He was betraying Gotham City. He was betraying his principles, his most deeply held convictions. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it in the slightest.

Bruce's sons are dead, his body is broken, and his mind is in shambles. Not for nothing, though, he is the Batman, and he is never out of back-up plans. Unfortunately, this back-up plan involves summoning an otherworldly entity and trading away the very essence of his being.

As it turns out, his soul is worth a lot more than he'd initially bargained for.

-

Important Tags: Temporary Major Character Death, Marriage Contracts, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Crack Treated Seriously

AO3 Here or Read More ⬇️

-

The Watchtower was nearly silent, save only for the quiet scraping of John Constantine’s chalk against the metal floor. He’d been working on the summoning circle for nearly an hour, under the watchful eyes of an unmasked Batman.

Bruce looked back down at the book in his lap, twisting the wheelchair around to look over Constantine’s work one more time. He surveyed the chalk circle with tired, dark eyes, and he could feel Constantine’s own gaze boring a hole into the side of his head. He pointedly did not turn to look at him.

“That’s it,” Bruce said quietly, moving his wheelchair backwards. He rolled further from the circle, nearly backed against the Watchtower’s control panel, and released a slow breath through his nose. “You don’t need to stay.”

“Like hell I’m leaving,” Constantine said, but his tone lacked any bite. He tossed the chalk aside and stepped back, seemingly looking over his work once more. After a long pause, he turned to look at Bruce, his expression grim. “I know I said it already, but this is a stupid fuckin’ idea. Proper bad.”

Bruce snorted humorlessly. ‘Bad’ didn’t even begin to cover it. It was the most idiotic, poorly-conceived plan he’d ever dreamed up, and he had no other choice. Constantine clearly knew that, too, if the dark circles under his eyes were any indicator. They’d both been awake for days, planning and refining the details of a final Hail Mary that would almost certainly get them killed.

Bruce was ashamed, but he didn’t care. The slim chance of success was worth it. If there was even a possibility of hope, they had to try. He owed it to them.

“If it were that bad of an idea, you wouldn’t still be here,” he finally said, though the words felt sour in his mouth. He didn’t want to push Constantine to leave, but it would be cruel to allow the man to stay and die alongside him.

Even so, he found it difficult to prod the man into leaving. Despite his reputation as the Batman — an uncaring, unfeeling vigilante — he still felt human emotions. He tried to not let them cloud his judgment, of course, but he could hardly deny the icy trickle of fear that gripped his throat. Death was always a possibility on the streets of Gotham, but here in the Watchtower, it had always felt so distant. Now, faced with the inevitability of it all, his fingers trembled and his chest was cold. He was afraid.

Constantine scowled, his fingers twitching towards his coat pocket before pausing with a jerky movement. His fingers shook with the tell-tale stress of nicotine withdrawal, and his eyes lingered on the circle, as if deep in thought.

“…I’ll be honest, Bats,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, “I don’t see us walkin’ away from this one.”

And that was the crux of it. If John Constantine, a man who openly mocked demons and frequently weaseled his way out of soul-binding contracts, had such low expectations… Bruce carefully schooled his expression, privately mourning the absence of the cowl. He still couldn’t bring himself to wear it.

He said nothing. There was nothing to say, not really — he was asking a fellow Justice League member to die with him. He had fallen so far in just a month without—

His throat felt tight. He scowled, shaking his head, and took a breath. It wouldn’t matter, soon enough. Either he would fix everything or he would die. Simple logic. Either way, it would cease to be a problem before long.

He was betraying Gotham City. He was betraying his principles, his most deeply held convictions. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it in the slightest.

“Let’s do it,” he said quietly. The candles around the chalk circle flickered, as if registering his statement. He didn’t dare to meet Constantine’s eyes, his gaze focused solely on the small dagger in his lap. He wrapped a shaking hand around the hilt, the fabric around the hilt rough and scratchy against his palm. He took in another slow breath, his heartbeat steady in his chest.

Constantine made a quiet noise. Without any aplomb, he stepped forward, his back to Bruce, and held out an old book. He slowly began speaking, an old Latin chant, with another language that Bruce didn’t recognize mixed in.

“Eliru, reĝo de la damnitaj. Gustumu la sangon, kiu fluas el via sindonemo. Accede ad nos, rex. Accede ad circulum regni tui!”

The candles flickered from orange to green, their acidic glow flaring up and sending shadows dancing around the Watchtower’s command room. Bruce gritted his teeth, leaning forward from his wheelchair and holding his hand out, the dagger primed to strike at his palm.

“Eniru la rondon trankvile kaj aŭskultu nian rabataĉeton!”

Bruce yanked the dagger across his palm, hissing as the blade bit into the thin skin and muscle. His blood spilled over the floor, coating the edge of the circle, and he was hit with the sudden, gut-wrenching realization that this was it. They’d long since passed the point of no return.

The circle glowed white as Constantine’s chanting reached a crescendo. He was almost shouting the final words of the spell, and the white light started bleeding into green. The toxic color of the Lazarus Pits filled the room, just as the sound of static began to surround them.

Bruce dropped the dagger, his stomach dropping as the temperature began plummeting. He nearly turned around to check the Watchtower’s monitoring system, purely on instinct, before he realized that his back was still warm. The cold was not a mechanical failure, but simply the result of the entity they had summoned. It was the icy touch of death’s king, not the reaching void of space.

The green light grew nearly blinding, and Bruce faintly heard Constantine shout before he, too, was drowned out by the light and deafening static. He squeezed his eyes shut, nearly flinching away, and felt a breeze of cold air against his face. The blood on his palm had frozen in place, and the wound burned as if the skin had been cauterized.

Spots danced across his vision when he finally opened his eyes again, the light gradually fading away to reveal a man. Bruce felt a chill run down his spine, but it was not the cold.

The King of Ghosts was tall, that was the first thing he noticed. The entity had broad shoulders and wore a crown wreathed in green flames. His hair tumbled down his shoulders in waves of cascading white, flowing strangely as if he was underwater. His skin was pale and pallid, as if he, himself, was a corpse that had been left in a cold body of water. At that, Bruce looked down at the entity’s fingertips, which were a ghastly black color at the tips. He wondered if the King of Ghosts had once been alive, maybe in the early days of humanity, and had died of hypothermia in a snowbank somewhere.

The King’s face was stern, with the tell-tale wrinkles of age at the corners of his eyes and the sides of his mouth. He couldn’t have been more than 40, but there was a look in his green eyes that spoke of a bone-deep weariness. He wore a long, dark tunic, but it glimmered strangely, as if it contained the stars from a far-away galaxy. Behind him, there was an enormous pair of glowing, white wings, their light nearly blinding to look at. The King held a thick book, though it snapped shut as he seemed to realize that he was, very suddenly, in a new place. His green eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he made eye contact with Bruce.

Finally, he spoke, his voice deep and faintly buzzing with that familiar static. “...You must be Mr. Wayne. I wondered when we would meet.”

“You know who I am?” Bruce asked without thinking, but he internally winced as soon as the words left his mouth. He couldn’t give away how utterly lost he was, how much of a disadvantage he was at.

“Gotham’s local bird-keeper, of course I know who you are,” the Ghost King said, his tone warm. “Your flock is lost to you now, but they still fly in my domain. They are what you seek.”

Bruce’s breath left him all at once, as if he’d been punched. He couldn’t speak, his eyes wide.

The entity continued on, perhaps uncaring for his shock. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’ve been expecting to meet you for a while. Maybe that’s a strange way to open a conversation… It has been many years since I’ve spoken to- well, a mortal.”

Thankfully, Bruce didn’t need to say a word, as Constantine stepped forward, holding up his spell book. “‘Ello, your Majesty. Er, you already know what we want, so how’s about a trade? The book, in exchange for… Well, y’know.”

The Ghost King raised a white brow before his eyes narrowed. “John Constantine… I’ve been meaning to speak with you, as well. You have saved me a trip to the mortal realm. It isn’t every day that I get to accomplish so much with just one meeting.”

Bruce froze, his heart sinking. He’d known what to expect, but to hear the King say it so bluntly… He cleared his throat, fighting to keep his composure as those intense, unblinking eyes returned to him.

“Constantine doesn’t have anything to do with this, he’s here in an unofficial capacity,” he said quickly, his words steady despite his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. “He is…”

“I’m like his lawyer, here to negotiate on his behalf, your Majesty,” Constantine said smoothly, pulling a cigarette out of his trench coat’s pocket. He leaned down and held it up to one of the candles, still glowing a deathly green, and lit it. With that, he straightened up, taking a deep drag, and breathed out a cloud of smoke. “Pay me no mind, yeah?”

The Ghost King huffed, his head quirking to the side like a bird. “We will address the matter of your soul at a later date, then, magician. And no, the book is not a fair trade. For now, I’d like you,” he pointed towards Bruce, “to tell me what I can do for you.”

Bruce refused to allow himself to be taken aback. He nodded, gritting his teeth for a moment before releasing the tension in his body.

“One month ago, the Joker learned of my secret identity. He took me and my sons hostage, and…” Bruce paused. Flashes of blood and bone flashed behind his eyes, and he could almost hear a high-pitched, shrieking laugh. He would never forget the sound. “My sons are dead. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake-Wayne, and Damian Wayne. The Joker killed them. I want them back.”

The King hummed, a strange sound that hovered somewhere between static and the crashing of waves upon a distant shore. “The dead do not often tolerate being disturbed.”

“Come off it, mate- erm, sir,” Constantine cut in, sharply correcting himself as the King sent him a dark look. “Your, uh, your Majesty.”

“I invite you to finish your statement, John Constantine,” The King of the Dead said slowly, the room growing colder as he watched the magician. They were rapidly losing control of the situation.

“I just meant, uh-” Constantine floundered, his eyes wide as he held up his hands. “Those kids, they aren’t resting, are they? They’re probably raising hell trying to get back ‘ere.”

The King rolled his eyes, waving a hand towards Constantine absentmindedly. Ghostly chains wrapped around the man’s ankles, sending him toppling down to the floor with a sharp yelp. He opened his mouth to shout, his cigarette falling to the ground, and a gag appeared around his head.

“The adults are talking now, John,” the King intoned, a sparkle of mischief twinkling behind his eyes. As Constantine let out a muffled yell behind the gag, the King turned to Bruce.

“You are not the first to request an audience with me, in regard to your sons,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards before settling down into a neutral countenance. “Though she could not bargain with me, not as you can.”

“Who was it?” Bruce asked before he could think better of it. He immediately went still, hoping desperately that the entity wouldn’t somehow use his words against him. He wasn’t seeking information, he was seeking a deal.

“You are familiar with her. You belong to her, and in a way, she belongs to you,” the King said, waving a hand idly. A glowing green figure appeared beside him for just a moment, their features too foggy to make out clearly. It was a woman wearing a tight cocktail dress, a cigarette raised to her lips.

The image vanished after a fleeting second. “She is the spirit of Gotham City. It is within her shadows that you roam, and within her walls that you bled. She watched the demise of your sons, and she brought their spirits to my realm, when it was time. She is called Lady Gotham. She is… fond of you and your cohort.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. The spirit of Gotham City… The fact that a city could even have a spirit was news to him, but he tried to move past the surprise as quickly as it had occurred. Lady Gotham’s favor was an intriguing prospect, and he was privately glad that someone had been waiting to help his boys when they’d finally passed, but he moved on.

“She requested an audience with you. Did she bring…” He couldn’t quite finish his sentence. He hated to imagine his kids, dead and scared and confused, standing before this imposing entity without any way to defend themselves. It made him sick to his stomach.

“She did not bring them before me, no. She begged for their return to the world of the living, though, and she mourned when I told her that I could not help her.” The Ghost King looked mildly uncomfortable at the thought, his lips pursing together. “If it is any comfort to you, they have not been frightened. Inquisitive and upset, perhaps, but never frightened. They know what happened to them.”

Bruce’s breath caught in his chest. Out of everything he had been expecting from the King of Ghosts, it was not comfort. Cold indifference, perhaps, or even derision. His hands shook, even as he balled them into fists to rest in his lap. He nodded slowly, trying to settle his nerves.

“...Are they happy?” He asked very quietly, unable to speak any louder. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Either way, he didn’t think that the answer would be pleasant to hear.

The King seemed to sense this as well, and his features softened. His pointed ears lowered. “They were happier in the mortal realm. Death is difficult for ones so young, but there have been people to help them adjust. They have not been alone.”

The pain that had rested in Bruce’s chest for the last month finally made itself known. As if a dam had finally broken, had finally worn away after years of damage, and his eyes burned. His vision blurred slightly as the tears finally welled up, and he fought to breathe around the lump that had suddenly taken up residence in his throat.

There was a moment of silence before the King stepped closer, pausing at the boundary of the circle. A flicker of movement behind his figure had Bruce looking up, and he watched as the entity’s wings shuffled slightly, reminiscent of an uncomfortable bird.

“For what it’s worth, I am… sympathetic to your struggle,” he said, his eyes creased in sympathy. “After hearing Lady Gotham’s case for their revival, I spoke to a few of my closest colleagues. They have agreed that the death of your children was not meant to happen.”

Bruce blinked, the tears spilling over his cheeks. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe, and his entire body felt hot. He was safe, but for some reason, it felt like he was watching his boys die all over again. “...What?”

“The passage of time is a tricky thing,” the King explained, gesturing out in a straight line. “Some things are meant to happen, some are not. Certain timelines must never come to pass, for the good of our reality. Part of my job is ensuring that, well, those timelines cease to exist. Whether that means removing troublesome players or correcting a fatal error, my duty is to the continuation of my realm. Do you follow?”

“You said… You said that they weren’t- they weren’t meant to die,” Bruce said numbly, meeting the King’s eyes with disbelief. “Then why did they?!”

To his surprise, the King did not scold him. In fact, he merely inclined his head, looking sufficiently guilty. “Your sons died because of an error within the timeline. It can be reversed with a bargain.”

Constantine shouted behind his gag, squirming violently against his bindings. He scooted closer to the circle, slamming his hands against the floor, and Bruce frowned.

He sent a look towards the King, motioning down to Constantine. The entity sighed before waving a hand, and the gag over the magician’s face fell away.

“-mph, finally… Right, your majesty, if this whole situation happened because of a ‘timeline error,’ then why does Batman need to make a deal to fix it?!” Constantine argued with a dark scowl, which would have looked more intimidating if he were not tied up and laying on the floor.

His argument had merit, and Bruce realized with a start that he had hardly been thinking. It was difficult to think rationally when he was so vulnerable, but he needed to remain impartial. He was grateful for Constantine’s presence, despite his brusque nature.

“I asked the same question,” the King answered, a frown marring his features. “As it stands, there is a balance to all things. You seek the return of the life and body of 4 souls, and doing this would aid in fixing this timeline, but there is always a price to keeping the balance. To be clear, I couldn’t bring them back under normal circumstances.”

“But you can bring them back?” Bruce pressed, his heart leaping up to his throat. The entity nodded. He leaned back in his chair, falling slack with relief.

“But there’s a price,” the King reminded him. “To bring your sons back onto the mortal plane, as they were, you will first surrender to me your soul, along with your life, death, and eternity.”

“Hold on a fuckin’- mphff!” Constantine started speaking, but the gag jumped right back into his mouth. He shouted behind it, his face crumpling in rage, but the King paid him little mind.

“Do you understand this term?” The King asked seriously, meeting Bruce’s gaze evenly. “Your life will not be your own, not after this. Your death and eternity, even less so.”

He gritted his teeth, watching the entity with narrowed eyes. He didn’t need to truly think about it, not when the lives of his sons hung in the balance. He nodded.

“I understand. Is that your only term for their revival?”

The King looked sad for a moment before shaking his head. “Well… It’s complicated. In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms, I must bring a soul to trial for this timeline error. After conferring with my counsel, we have agreed that the Joker is responsible. I will be taking him into the Realms to stand trial and atone for his crimes. He has also killed 4 of Lady Gotham’s knights, which is yet another breach of Realm law.”

“You aren’t asking me for permission for this, are you?” Bruce asked, though he suspected that he already knew the answer. “I’m not able to just hand over another person’s soul.”

“Ownership doesn’t matter in a criminal trial, it’s more like extradition,” the King explained patiently, gesturing with his hands. “You signing over your soul is not a matter of ownership, it’s more like a work contract. I fulfill my end, you fulfill yours. In the Joker’s case, he is being prosecuted for using knowledge of the Infinite Realms to kill Gotham’s protectors.”

“So I’ll work for you, once this deal is complete?” Bruce asked, raising a brow and deliberately ignoring any mention of the Joker. He hadn’t been entirely clear on what soul ownership meant, and Constantine had been vague in his explanations as well. It seemed like eternal damnation, which suited him just fine, but he wanted to be sure.

“Well… The things that I have requested from you are required to restore balance, but in the interest of cooperation, I will tell you that I have no specific plans for your soul,” the King said, looking almost sheepish as he admitted it. He rubbed the back of his neck, gesturing down at Constantine, and said, “Despite what this one might tell you, I did not answer your summons for nefarious purposes. I hadn’t even realized that it was you summoning me.”

The way the King spoke was interesting. For whatever reason, Bruce got the feeling that this entity was familiar with modern language and mannerisms, if only because of his strange insistence on being polite (except, of course, to Constantine).

Finally, he sighed very quietly. “Will you let me see them one more time, then? Will I have any time here on Earth with them?”

The King’s face softened, his green eyes creased with sympathy. He nodded. “Of course. Mr. Wayne, I don’t seek cruelty. You will have at least a week with your children before I return for you, I can promise you that.”

A week. It was such a short span of time, but it was more than he’d ever hoped for. He fought the tears that threatened to reappear as he nodded, a smile barely tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A week is… Thank you. I appreciate that, more than you know.”

The King smiled. With a flare of green fire, a small stack of papers appeared in his hands, and a pair of reading glasses appeared, already perched neatly on his nose. He adjusted them and shuffled through the papers, organizing them neatly in his arms but presumably not reading any of them. Had he already drafted a contract in preparation of their meeting?

Finally, he stepped up to the boundary of the circle and leaned closer to Bruce, extending the papers out to him. He took them after a moment of hesitation, glancing down to see…

“King Phantom? Is that your name?” Bruce asked curiously, unable to really help himself. He skimmed the terms, finding that there wasn’t very much legalese in the way that he had been expecting. The terms were clear.

“That is what I’m called, yes,” King Phantom said, and though Bruce wasn’t looking up at him, he could hear a smile in his voice. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself properly. That was rude.”

“Mhm,” Bruce hummed, not paying it much mind, but paused on the section about the King’s responsibilities towards him. The language was worded strangely, less like a work contract and more like…

Something wasn’t quite right.

In exchange for all services rendered (see Section 3, “Phantom’s Responsibilities”), both parties will enter into a formal courtship, to begin one week from the signing of this contract.

“Did you write this?” He asked slowly, raising a brow as he looked up at the entity.

“No, my mentor wrote it,” King Phantom said with a smile, and a few things clicked into place. Ah. Bruce schooled his expression with some difficulty. “He and I spoke about this after meeting with Lady Gotham, and he drafted those in preparation of this summoning. Is something wrong? I haven���t had a chance to look over it, but I can.”

“Your mentor?” Bruce pressed, ignoring the question.

“The Master of Time, Lord Kronos, known as Clockwork most recently,” the King explained, gesturing with frostbite hands as he spoke. “He is a dear friend and a trusted confidant. He has taught me much over the years.”

Bruce hummed. He examined the list of his own responsibilities towards the King and was pleased to see that the entity had not lied — he had a week from the moment of signing the contract to get his affairs in order, in preparation of leaving the mortal plane to get ‘accustomed’ to the Infinite Realms.

Finally, he asked, “Would it be possible to allow Constantine to review this?”

The King snorted and waved a hand. In a flash of green, the bindings vanished and the magician leapt to his feet with a scowl.

“Damn it all…” Constantine leaned over Bruce’s wheelchair and yanked the contract from his hands, grumbling quietly as he looked through the papers.

While he was occupied, Bruce thought to ask one more question. “One of the terms in your section said that you would return my sons and myself to perfect health. Why?”

The terms of the contract had been shockingly accommodating for Bruce’s side, to such an extent that he wondered just how valuable his soul was. What would his eternity look like, under the Ghost King? Was it really that bad, that even the contract writer had felt bad for him? And if that was the case, what would the courtship be like? He shuddered at the idea.

“It seems fair, doesn’t it?” King Phantom asked with a frown. “You didn’t ask for this situation, and your injuries are the result of a horrible error. This contract seeks to fix that error, in its entirety.”

Bruce hummed, considering the answer. Throughout their conversation, Phantom had been surprisingly kind to him, always answering his questions patiently and showing sympathy for his situation. He wondered about pushing that kindness, ever so slightly.

He glanced over to Constantine, confirming that he was still reading through the papers, and met the King’s eyes again.

“You were human once, weren’t you?”

Beside him, Constantine stiffened, his eyes going wide. He slowly turned to look at Bruce, his expression dangerous, but Bruce paid the magician little mind.

“I was, yes,” the King said, nodding. He smiled after a moment and gestured to his form, saying sheepishly, “Most of this is the result of shapeshifting. Ghosts are just stronger spirits, and we can change our forms as we see fit. The wings are a ghost thing, I did not have them when I was alive.”

“How did you die?” Bruce asked, and Constantine let out a high pitched, strained sound. He was rapidly shaking his head, clearly trying to get Bruce’s attention.

King Phantom recoiled, his green eyes catching on Constantine’s panicked figure. After a tense moment, he smiled.

“I see. Well, for one, please don’t ask any other ghosts about their death. It’s considered rude. For two, most ghosts are the result of a violent or sudden death. That is all I will say about my death, lest I risk giving the magician a heart attack.”

“The- the magician is fine!” Constantine spluttered, but his white knuckled grip on the papers in his grasp said otherwise. He jabbed Bruce’s shoulder with his elbow, shooting him a dark look.

Bruce pointedly did not apologize. He had established that King Phantom wouldn’t hurt him, at least not until the contract was settled, and he was curious about the entity’s temperament. If he was going to spend eternity with this creature, he had to know more about him.

“Freezing to death doesn’t seem violent,” he observed idly, gesturing up to the King’s dark fingertips. To his surprise, the ghost only laughed.

“Again, shapeshifting. Besides, my core- that is, my soul’s essence- is partially responsible for my appearance, and I have an icy core. The frostbitten appearance isn’t an indicator of my death, though we can go through all of the violent deaths if you really want to guess.”

The most sensitive topic that he could think of was a ghost’s death, and it was one that Constantine had insisted that he needed to avoid. Now, in the wake of the King’s lighthearted but polite nature, it seemed like it wasn’t too much of a taboo.

“Murder?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Drowning? Blunt force trauma? Starving?”

“You’re good at this game, but still no.”

Bruce snorted. He smiled slightly, internally considering the many ways he had almost died.

“Poison? Falling? Blood loss?”

“Three more incorrect guesses, Mr. Wayne. Come on, really think.” The smile on the King’s face seemed genuine, and the way he leaned down, as if excited to hear his next guess, suggested that he, too, was having fun.

“Dehydration? Disease? Animal attack?” He racked his brain for causes of death that would have been especially relevant near the beginning of mankind. If Phantom was that old, he likely had died in a common way.

“None of those, either, but I’m confident that you’ll find it.”

Bruce paused. He leaned back in his chair, thinking seriously about it. There were a few more that he had not seriously considered due to the more modern nature of their applications, but maybe that was what he was missing.

“Suicide?”

“Not quite. You’re getting warmer, though.”

He had his answer. He steeled himself, ready to ask his question and receive some kind of reaction from Phantom. The entity still seemed engaged, his long ears perked up and his eyes bright. It was strange to see such an expression on a (presumably) millennia old creature.

He met Phantom’s eyes evenly and said, “Electrocution, your Majesty.”

Phantom’s lips quirked upwards in a small, sad smile. He nodded. “You are correct. Well done, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce suppressed the urge to smile in return. He’d expected that selling his soul would be a more unpleasant affair, but Phantom had an even temperament and even a sense of humor. He was surprised by both, frankly.

“Bruce,” he said quietly. “Call me Bruce.”

“As long as you call me Phantom, none of this king or majesty business,” the entity said with a wider smile, stepping back from the edge of the circle. His wings were relaxed now, no longer held so tightly against his back. The white feathers glowed ever so slightly, and Bruce had to remind himself not to stare.

He nodded, glancing back to Constantine, who was staring, slack-jawed at the contract. Bruce glanced down at the page and immediately identified which term had caught the magician off-guard, and he cleared his throat.

“It all looks fine, right, John?”

Constantine met his eyes, finally closing his mouth. After a beat, he nodded. “Yeah- yeah, it looks… fine. Bats, are you sure?”

“It seems fair,” Bruce said, pointedly not discussing the clause that Constantine had been examining. If the King hadn’t read the contract, then this could only work out in Bruce’s favor.

The magician looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding, his expression twisted with pity. He handed the papers over to Bruce, saying quietly, “You’re a good dad, mate.”

“If I was, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Bruce said very quietly, accepting the small stack of papers. He looked up at Phantom with a steely gaze. “Alright, you have a deal. How do we sign?”

“You may be familiar with other forms of contract signing,” Phantom said, gesturing to Constantine. “Demons and fae often seal their contracts with a kiss. I find that unprofessional and, frankly, very cruel. We sign the final page and shake hands. Is that acceptable, Bruce?”

He briefly wondered if Phantom’s lips would have been cold before immediately shutting down that train of thought. Instead, he nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

King Phantom smiled, exposing sharp teeth as he did. He waved a hand and another flash of green light appeared, summoning a quill and a pot of ink. Both objects floated in the air before him, seemingly weightless, and he grabbed the quill. With a quick dip into the ink pot (which, disturbingly, seemed to contain Lazarus Water instead of ink), he signed the final page of the contract before handing it off to Bruce.

The quill was cold against his fingers. He shuddered, holding it tighter, and dipped the tip into the Lazarus Water. It was more viscous than he’d realized, and it clung to the end of the quill like honey. He lowered it down to the page and slowly penned his signature, his stomach dropping as he did.

Finally, the papers glowed a bright, toxic green, and the King smiled. He held out a hand, and Bruce took it. It was as cold as he’d expected, but soft to the touch. They shook once, and the deal was sealed.

There was a quiet moment of tension before Bruce felt an overwhelming sense of finality. He released Phantom’s hand, clutching at his own chest, and took a slow, deep breath. A tingling sensation ran up and down his spine, which was strange for a beat before he realized that he could feel it. He laughed softly, in disbelief, and slowly stood up from the wheelchair.

Phantom watched him with a soft smile, his head tilted to the side. The ghost stepped closer, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and said very quietly, “You should head back home. They’re waiting for you.”

With that, the King of Ghosts vanished, his form dissipating like smoke, and there was a thick silence left in his wake.

“I can’t believe you just did that, you bloody fuckin’ idiot,” Constantine huffed, his tone incredulous. He stepped closer to Bruce, digging a cigarette out of his trench coat and immediately lighting it. “You just sold yourself to the fuckin’-”

“We read the same contract, didn’t we?” Bruce asked with a smirk. “He’ll probably realize what happened before he comes to collect me, but still.”

“Being engaged to the bloody Ghost King is still crazy!” Constantine spat, throwing his hands up in the air. He took a heavy drag of his cigarette before groaning. “You know how pissed he’ll be? Bats, you’re mental-”

“According to the contract, it’s an official courtship, not an engagement,” Bruce corrected mildly, unable to help but smile. He stepped away from the wheelchair and breathed in deeply, noting that his legs felt better than they’d felt even before his encounter with the Joker.

“I’ll let you clean this up,” he said with a dark smirk. “I need to get back home.”

Constantine sent him a miserable glare, but nodded. “Fine. Go hug your kids… Bloody nutcase.”

That was exactly what he planned to do.

-

(If you liked, be sure to leave a comment or just reblog! An extended chapter is available on my AO3 and you’ll be able to follow the rest of the fic there. Thank you for reading.)

[bisexualiteaa]

Getting interrupted 🤭

CW: smutty 18+! Suggestive themes, light mentions of/implied smut, getting caught, possible errors and possible OOC scenarios. Otherwise, enjoy! 🥰

John "Soap" MacTavish

- he was a sucker for someone in uniform, so it was no surprise that he would come and constantly visit you down at medical where you worked. It's how you both met and got together after all, so despite the pain and occasionally bad memories that came with it, it still held a place in his heart because you were there.

- he'd never admit it, but sometimes he would get himself hurt on purpose just to visit you, he always loved to see the smile on your face as you would shake your head and rest your hands on your hips before fixing him up perfectly, always having the cure to his every injury or ailment.

- sometimes these were the only moments where he'd get a chance alone with you, enjoying the way you'd always make a little time for him to talk and enjoy each others company for a little while afterwards.

- no one knew you guys were together, everyone knew he had a crush on you because, quite frankly, he wasn't very good at hiding it, but he didn't really want to either. But for the sake of your job, he didn't want to reveal anything should it get you in trouble.

- "you never stay out of trouble, do you?" You asked with a playful grin as you'd just finished stitching up a small gash on his arm. "If I stayed out a trouble, I'd never get the luxury t' see you" he replied with a flirty tone, making you chuckle. "Just be more careful please, I need you in one piece" you replied, kissing his cheek as you sat next to him, having just patched up his arm. "I will, don't worry your pretty head lass, I'll always come back t' you" he assured, making you smile and hum in appeasement before you leaned in, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss. His hand came to cup your cheek as you held his other one in your own, fingers intertwined as you shared in your moment together. When you two were alone together, the world finally felt at peace, no wars to think about, no stress weighing down on you, all you needed to think about was your Johnny.

- So it was no shock that your kiss took a turn to something a little deeper, a sigh leaving you as your free hand rested on his collarbone. "Careful bonnie, go on like tha' and I'll be walkin' outta here with a whole different problem" he said, making you giggle. "Wouldn't half mind fixing that either, too bad you don't know how to keep quiet" you quipped with a grin, making him laugh at your remark. "Cheeky bugger" he replied with a matching grin before pulling you in again, kissing you as if tomorrow you'd be gone.

- But sadly, even the best moments must come to an end, neither of you were expecting the way it had however.

- "Sorry to bother doc, got room to squeeze in a- woah!" Spoke Gaz as he pulled back the curtain, seeing your form loomed over the side of the exam bed, kissing his comrade. You gave a short gasp as you both jumped apart, blushing wildly after being caught red handed. "Shit, I'm SO so sorry!" You spoke, bumping into your cart in your panicked frenzy as you tried to back away and button your uniform back up as to not look suspicious, but it was already too late.

- "Sorry Gaz, appointment got prolonged. Doctors, am I right? Gotta poke around an' check everywhere for some reason" Johnny spoke, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush but trying to joke his way out of things, as per usual. Gaz gave a chuckle. "Explains why you come down here so often. Here I thought you were just trying to get a good record built up for disability, didn't know you had a Dr. Feel Good situation goin' on" he teased with a grin. "I'm gonna get in so much trouble.." You muttered, holding your face in your hands out of embarrassment. "Relax doc, your secret's safe with me. I promise. It's about time you finally went for" Gaz assured you before offering a genuinely happy smile to Johnny. "I know all to well of the draw of the uniform myself" he added, looking towards one of the other doctors, her offering a giggle and flirty wave his way. "Well I'll be damned" Johnny spoke with a chuckle. "And looks like she's got an opening, so you two just earned yourself some more alone time" Gaz said, making you and Johnny both chuckle. "I owe ya one" Johnny spoke before Gaz walked away, turning back to you as you closed the curtain again, alotting you both some privacy for just a little bit longer.

König

- You were in his room, laying in bed together, enjoying the time alone after months of him being away.

- It started out innocent enough, just enjoying a movie together, but one innocent kiss turned to two, and when wandering hands found their way down your sides to your ass, playful giggles soon turned to quiet moans and it wasn't long before things turned just a little more heated.

- You were on top of him, straddling his lap as his kisses began littering down your neck, his large, rough hands at your hips moving you back and forth against him. A quiet moan and sigh fell from you, both of you doing your best to keep quiet as not to raise suspicions.

- "How I missed you, schatz" he told you, making you smile with drunken love in your eyes. "Missed you too, Kö" you replied sweetly, your lips now trailing down his neck to his bare chest in a way that he swore injected fire straight into his veins.

- You were topless as you sat there straddling him, indulging in one of those moments of kissing one another deeply, only stopping at the feel of each other smiling before resuming. Light, breathy giggles and quiet sighs of pleasure leaving you as you both were caught up in the heat of the moment.

- That was when you both heard the knock at the door, making you both jump. "Shit" you said quietly but in a panic. "Hide" he replied, getting up to put on a pair of pants, allowing you some time to scramble to grab your shirt and any trace you were here and hide in his bathroom, staying dead silent as you did.

- You heard the sound of him talking to Captain Price as you were hidden, relief washing over you once the door had finally closed and he walked away. You peaked back out from the bathroom, seeing König look at you as the look of panic finally fell from his face. "Close call" you spoke with a grin. "Way too close" he replied as you came back to him. "Ya know, if you just came over to my place, we wouldn't have to sneak around and worry about getting caught" you mused, making him chuckle as he leaned down. "Maybe I like the thrill a little bit" he admitted, making you giggle lightly before kissing him once more, your arms draped over his shoulders as you did.

- "Just keep it down in there" Price's voice spoke from the other side of his door, making you panic once more. "König! This is why we should be at my house!" You said, face red as a beet from fluster, and König couldnt help but grin at your embarrassment. Price gave a laugh as he walked away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Everyone knew you were his, he made it very clear that he would break the neck of anyone who would dare try to have a piece of you, or even look in your direction with malintent.

- He didn't need PDA to show it either, when you both were out with his comrades, or out in public, a protective arm laid around your waist yes, but even when it didn't, all it took was one look from Simon for someone to deeply reconsider their intentions with you.

- So one night, when you were both coming out to his truck for a smoke from a night out drinking with friends, the liquid courage seeping through your veins, you decided to push his buttons a little.

- There he stood, leaned against his truck, having just finished taking drags off of his cigarette before putting it out with his foot. His balaclava was still pulled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, showing off the lower half of his face, so you took the chance.

- You smiled as he grinned when your fingers slid along his jaw and up under the balaclava just a little, keeping it up so that you could kiss him. The taste of smoke, tobacco, and whiskey mixed together in a taste that was just so *him.* You couldn't help the surge of butterflies that came through you as his hands rested on your hips, the way he kissed you always left your mind reeling as they were always so intimate, so shameless.

- "Just couldn't wait, could ya?" He asked, making you chuckle as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up from the drinks buzzing in you as well as the heat that always burned in you anytime he kissed you. "You know what bourbon does to me, and you know what *you* do to me" you replied with a playful grin, making him chuckle once more as you said it, poking his chest to prove your point before dragging your finger down some. "I'm very aware" he replied.

- Your finger looped into his belt, giving a strong tug to pull him closer to you, your lips just centimetres apart now before you closed the distance once more. "You're playing a dangerous game, lovie" he spoke in a low tone, making your grin only stretch wider. "That so? Gonna put me in my place then?" You challenged bravely, making his eyes hold a different intensity. Hunger, a predatory one at that. "Get your ass in the truck. Now" he ordered.

- Needless to say, it was no shock to him that you both managed to find your way in the back seat of his truck, music playing just loud enough in the background to add to the atmosphere as your panting from the deep kiss filled the air in the car.

- You grinned far too devilishly as you rolled your hips in time to the beat of the song, enjoying your moment of power over him. But he was there to remind you that even if you were on top and straddling him, that did not, by any stretch of the imagination, mean you were in control. His hand came to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged it back, making your head dip back as he did. You gave a sinful moan as he did, roughly thrusting his hips up into you. "Your misbehavin' has gotten a bit out of hand, love. Someone oughtta teach you some fuckin' manners" he damn near *growled* in response, making you whimper as his hips stilled completely. "Gonna be good f' me? Stop bein' a fuckin' brat?" He asked, making you nod your head yes vigorously, earning another yank on your hair and a powerful thrust up into you. "Answer properly" he ordered. "Yes sir, gonna be good for you, I promise!" you let out, his hand leaving your hair as he started his pace up again. "Then be a doll and take it" he spoke, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continued his brutal pace.

- Anyone on the outside wouldn't have known, the music, not too loud to be suspicious, but perfectly loud enough to cover your joint symphony of moans, pants, and grunts, paired with the sounds of skin against skin. So Soap being none the wiser, thought it'd be safe to go to Ghost's truck to tease you both for being gone for so long.

- Then a hand came to the foggy window, smearing enough of the condensation away to reveal the both of you in the back seat. What he wasn't anticipating was the sight of you on top of him, fully clothed thankfully, but it was clear what was going on. "Shit!" You exclaimed when you saw Soap's eyes widen before he looked away, knowing he'd be in deep shit for catching you both. Simon's eyes followed yours to the window, catching sight of the reason why you were hiding your face in your hands. A devious grin came to his lips, deciding to roll the window down some, not too much to show too much, but enough to send you into a panic. "Si! What the hell are you doing??" You asked, making the scot give a chuckle. "Was comin' t' check an' see if you two were still alive, but clearly you're takin' more than a smoke break" he replied. "Started off as one anyway.." You spoke with a nervous look, making him chuckle once again before turning around and walking back. "Try not to kill 'er" Soap spoke before walking back inside.

- You certainly learned your lesson that night, hiding your face that burned bright red as you left the back seat, Simon of course delighted in your torture as you both went back inside to sit back at the table, getting to take in all the knowing grins from his friends as they all teased you for the rest of the night. To Simon's standards of course, he'd never let anyone take it too far. ❤️

[princessbrunette]

imagine jayj's panic rambling about some stupid lead john b wants to chase next, pacing the floors n practically given you a headache cos he literally hasn't breathed in the last five minutes so you just drop to your knees in front of him to get him quiet - 🍓

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

you could never quite follow with all the pogue adventure stuff. it was alot, and each day brought new details and side quests and it was difficult to keep up with. you knew that if it was a lot for you, it had to be a lot on your boyfriend jj — which became more and more clear as he paced your girly bedroom, repeatedly yanking his hat off to run a stressed hand through his hair.

“and you know me i don’t like to wait — we’re wastin’ valuable precious time that could be spent walkin’ right in there, sticking a gun in their mouth n’ waiting for them to squawk, but no — nah of course john b wants to do the freakin’ logical thing and regroup tomorrow. tomorrow, babe— these dudes are gonna be half way across the ocean by tomorrow, bon appetit— never to be seen again!”

“do you mean bon voyage?” you furrow your eyebrows, swinging your legs as you listen along, sat on your vanity watching the blonde pace your room. he’d only been in your house for a matter of ten minutes, and you weren’t sure he’d taken a second to breathe since he had arrived — ranting furiously about the day of pogue drama and adventure.

“look— whatever, okay— the point is, no one’s listening to me, n’i get it, right? jj’s the crazy one, jj’s always gettin’ himself into trouble— but you know why that is? it’s because i take action.” he pummels his fist into his hand with emphasis. “i’m not gonna just sit here and let these guys get away with this shit, you know?”

he finally looks at you, like expecting an answer and you take the opportunity— hopping off the vanity to step towards him. “i know it’s frustrating, jayj — but there’s nothing you can do right now. everyone’s safety including yours should be the main priority.” you pout. you know he didn’t wanna be lectured by you on being safe, especially not right now but you couldn’t help offer your opinion. plus, as selfish as it sounded you kind of wanted him to drop the whole thing now. it was pointless, really.

“i know — okay? i know. i’m sorry i’m… yeah, i’m just stressed the fuck out. you know how i get. i just kinda find it funny how he— wh… what you doin’ there?” he’s paused in his tracks when you’re suddenly infront of him, nodding intently along with what he’s saying as your fingers pop open the button on his shorts.

you have the audacity to look confused by his question, tilting your head like a sweet lost puppy. “…helping? said you were stressed, jayj?” you furrow your brows, manicured fingers slowly dragging his zipper down before you sink to your knees, looking up at him expectedly.

“you— uh, you were gonna…? right here?” he blinks, his anatomy betraying him as his cock jumps in his pants in muscle memory of you being on your knees. you nod happily, leaning forward with a polite smile, pressing a kiss to his bulge through his pants.

“wanna help.” you muse happily, almost cheerfully and he swallows, taking his hat off for the last time and tossing it onto your bed.

“hey, don’t let me stop you sugar. just… surprised. god damn.” he runs a hand through his hair, the frustration already starting to seep out of his body. you take this as the green light to start massaging his length through the fabric, giggling giddily as you ready him for your mouth.

“just relax now, jj. lemme make it better.”

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

[the-paper-apricot]

John, Paul & the Shangri-Las

Whatever happened to The life that we once knew?

It's fairly well known that these lines from the bridge of 'Free as a Bird' are adapted from the lyric of 'Remember (Walkin' in the Sand)', written & produced by Shadow Morton and performed by the Shangri-Las. Where the Beatles, in lyrics begun but not completed by John, call up shared memories, Mary Weiss sang of "the boy that I once knew". That John reused these lines to voice his own preoccupation with an unresolved past adds much tenderness to 'Free as a Bird'. Being a Shangs fan, there are a couple of other connections that I just wanted to write about.

The Shangs looking dangerous.

Today I love you more than yesterday

'I Know (I Know)' from Mind Games (1973).

Although the melodies are completely different, the Shangri-Las song 'Love You More Than Yesterday' seems to find an echo in the most emotive lines in the bridge of John Lennon's 'I Know (I Know)'. The song was a B-side to their 1966 spoken-word ballad 'Past, Present & Future' (which, incidentally, took Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' as its theme, like the Beatles' song 'Because' after it). Quite rightly the nod to 'Yesterday' is what strikes us most, but I'm not at all sure that the similarity to the Shangri-Las title is pure coincidence. We saw in Get Back how easily song titles and lyrics were used by John and Paul in the current of their talk.

It proved difficult to find John speaking about the Shangri-Las, despite the Beatles' enjoyment of records by other girl groups like the Shirelles, and they're not among the artists on John's famous 40-disc mobile juke box that he brought when the Beatles went out on tour. (Only one woman, Fontella Bass, appears among the discs. The juke box doesn't even include 'Angel Baby' by Rosie and the Originals, whose fresh, unrefined first-love sentimentality appealed to him so much he covered it.) It's a little easier to find something from Paul on the subject however.

Mary and Betty Weiss from the Shangri-Las, photographed by Jini Dellaccio in 1966 (left: screenshot by @ohhellno on tumblr*; right, my screenshot, both from the documentary Her Aim is True, about the photographer).

Of course he calls out "Shangri-Las versus The Village People!" at the beginning of 'Mr. H. Atom'. But glorious as that is, perhaps more informative are the occasions where Paul has spoken of his enjoyment of the Shangri-Las' style, and the way he appreciated Linda's voice in this mode.

If she’s a singer, she’s very much a Shangri-Las type singer; I don’t think any of them could get into opera, but I prefer them to opera. Linda wouldn’t put herself up as a great vocalist, but she’s got a great style. I think anyway.

'McCartney Gets Hungry Again', Musician, Feb. 1988

I've always maintained that she has a kind of Shangri-Las type of appeal.

'Can Paul McCartney Get Back?' Rolling Stone, June 1989

When you know how warmly Paul regarded their style, you can't miss the similarity of Linda's spoken intro and closing of 'Wide Prairie' ("I was in Paris, waiting for a flight..."), answered by Paul, to the chat in Shangri-Las songs like 'Give Him a Great Big Kiss', where the other girls ask Mary Weiss whether her guy is tall ("Well, I gotta look up!") or if he's a good dancer.

Did they meet?

On the 20th September 1964, the Shangri-Las performed on the same bill as the Beatles, at a benefit concert in New York for a cerebral palsy charity. Mary Weiss explained that Mary Ann Ganser was jostled backstage as one of the Beatles sought them out:

“She turned around and it was Ringo. So that was some contact, anyway. I almost wanted her to take his drumsticks.”

'Weiss Leads Again', the New York Sun, September 2007.

This seems to be the only documented contact between the groups, although if you know of others, or further instances where John or Paul spoke about the Shangs, I'd love to hear about them. The music that the Beatles listened to has been written about extensively, and there's almost a canon of influences that's become pretty standard. Given their admiration of their performance, and seemingly in John's case, of Shadow Morton's words**, I hope for some recognition of both Lennon and McCartney's creative responses to the Shangri-Las.

(* Many thanks to @ohhellno for letting me use this great screenshot.)

(** The interest was of course mutual, as Morton produced the Beattle-ettes single 'Only Seventeen', supposedly a response to the Beatles from the girl's perspective, with hand claps and cries of "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" The single, by an untraced group, was released in 1964. In summer the same year his first songwriting hit, 'Remember (Walkin' in the Sand)' was the breakout success for the Shangri-Las. It was racing up the Billboard Hot 100 as the Beatles toured the States in the second half of August. By the time they had a day off in Key West, on the tenth of September, it had reached the top ten, one place below 'A Hard Day's Night'. If John or Paul tuned to a pop radio station, they'd have heard it. The song peaked at number five.)

from the Billboard Hot 100, week ending 12th September, 1964.

[kissesbyliz]

the interrogation

(feat. john price, johnny "soap" mactavish)

cw: smut!! mdni, dubcon, fem!reader, assassin!reader, orgasm denial, mean price and soap

you were being forcefully led through a dimly lit hallway. two men were on either side of you, a big hand taking place on the small of your back and maintaining a firm pressure as it forced you forward. you tried your best to plant your feet on the floor, to resist the situation as best you could, but it was all fruitless as the hand urging you on was just that damn strong.

you gritted your teeth, glaring over your shoulder at the man shoving you. he only shot you a mocking smile in response. his blue eyes soon narrowed as he gave you another push to keep you in motion. strangely, you found it alluring enough that you think you would feel an attraction to it, if it weren't for his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"keep walkin'." he said harshly, his scottish accent gruff against your ears.

"try not to dig yourself into an even bigger hole, love." the man on your left advised, eyes regarding you with warning. he was the one who had subdued you, you recognized, a faint memory of leaning against his burly chest as he carried you resurfacing in your mind.

you all finally arrived at an interrogation room. you were forcefully ordered to sit down, and you planted yourself on the seat they had pulled out for you unceremoniously. you slid your handcuffed hands onto the surface of the table, glaring at the two men as they rounded it. the one who had been on your left took his place in the chair in front of you. the scottish man remained standing beside his companion, bracing his hands on the metal table to lean over it and gaze at you with scrutiny. you tried to hide your shiver, though you were unable to discern if it was from the chill of the room or from the pressure of their stares.

the man in front of you offered you a sleek smile, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners, "now, since we're all going to be getting to know each other very well, i think some introductions are in order, don't you think?"

"you can call me price." he nodded to his ally, "you can call that big guy over there soap."

you refused to grant them your name and clenched your jaw. you figured they already knew damn well who you were, having plucked you from your assignment and tossed you in their escort vehicle. price ignored your silence, continuing, "why don't we start off with something easy? you know why you're here?"

"for a good time?" you retorted sarcastically. the men looked at each other, before soap leaned in closer to your face.

"come on, you seem like a smart girl. answer our questions, and we'll consider not having to ruin that pretty face of yours." he sneered. you debated challenging the threat, but opted not to as you figured it wouldn't get you any closer to escaping their containment.

you cocked your head to the side, finally responding, "because i killed your soldiers?"

"assassinated at least a dozen of our men right in their homes. it sure was a real pain in our ass trying to look for you too. isn't that right, johnny?" price corrected you immediately, glancing back at his ally. soap nodded in response, not breaking eye contact with you.

"who d'you work for?" he cut to the chase. the sharpness in his gaze told you that he wasn't fucking around, but you refused to let him intimidate you.

you scoffed in mock amusement, "must be dumber than you look, if you really think i would tell you bastards."

soap grinned meanly, "you're going to, if y'know what's best for ya'."

he leaned back to full height. the sheer size of his figure standing over you was enough to make you instinctively shrink back into your chair.

"think she needs some encouragement, captain." he reported to his leader, something scary lacing his low tone.

"think you're right, johnny." an impending grin slowly stretched across price's face as he confirmed, and you gulped.

"what kind of encouragement?" you demanded, not meaning to make it sound as nervous as it came out. you instantly rejected the apprehension bubbling in your chest with everything you had, urgently reminding yourself of your training. that you could easily kill these people if you so wanted-

"the kind that'll make you talk, sweetheart." his chair scraped loudly on the floor as he stood up to walk around the table, now standing directly beside you. gazing up at him, you came to an odd realization that made something warm bloom in your core; he looks like he could take complete control over you, like he could treat you any way he so desired. it's a foreign thought that you hated to admit wasn't entirely unwelcomed, as you had never felt it seeing anyone else before.

"i'm not scared of you." you felt the need to assert, knowing damn well that you're lying. if your stomach churning in unease had to say anything about it.

a callous laugh rumbled from price's chest, before his tone shifted to something sinister, "get on your knees."

you sat for a second frozen in place. apparently a second too long for him, as his hand soon tangled itself in your hair and forced you to the ground. you yelped at the force, your knees hitting the ground with a painful thud.

"now, you're going to sit here and take what i'm gonna give you, until you feel like talking to us."

his fingers began to work at his belt, shoving it down along with his trousers to reveal a half hardened dick, already leaking with precum. he didn't bother to wait for you to move, opting to drag your head for you so your soft lips slid along the base of his thick cock.

the slight bit of contact made him groan, peering down at you with half lidded eyes, "open those pretty lips for me, love. and i promise i'll make this less painful for you."

you had no choice but to obey, wrapping your mouth around the tip of his thick cock and drawing a heavy sigh from him. fuck, as much as you didn't want it, you couldn't help the arousal that was beginning to pool in your core, mixing in with your fear and making you positively burn.

he thrusted harshly into your mouth and drew a gag from your throat. he only groaned at the vibrations, using his hand in your hair as leverage to fuck up deeper into you. suddenly overcome with the need to take more of him, to taste more of him, you relaxed your throat as best as you can.

"well, don't take all the fun, cap'." you glanced over to see soap, fisting his own dick in his hands as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. you whimpered involuntarily as you briefly forgot the circumstance you were in.

"listen to her whine, johnny. reckon she wants you as well." price chuckled, "that what you want, princess?"

you glared up at him, grasping at straws to hang onto that little bit of dignity you had left. but fuck, if it was hard trying to keep up your act with two men so eager for you.

soap walked over to you, positioning his length in front of your face. you released price's cock with a slick pop! as soap guided you to take him into your mouth with a hand in your hair.

he's a little smaller than price had been, but just as thick. you closed your eyes, mewling as you bobbed your head up and down.

"fuck, her throat feels good, sir." he grunted above you, hips thrusting slightly into your mouth.

"that it does, johnny." price agreed with a chuckle. he crouched down to your height, palming one of your breasts through your thin, long sleeved compression shirt.

"let's get some of these clothes off, hm?" he commented smoothly, before reaching up to your collar and shredding the shirt in half.

you instantly moved to free the member in your mouth to gape at the bearded man beside you in indignation, "what the fuck-"

your words are then muffled by soap shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt. you planted your hands on his thighs, trying to urge him to ease up so you could yell at price for exposing you. however, his hips only sped up, his dick moving in and out of your mouth faster.

price snickered at your actions, shoving your bra up to free your breasts, "funny, how you thought you could hide these from us, darling." he sighed, fondling your bare tits with his warm hands.

eventually, he stood back up and placed a hand on soap's chest. the pressure in your throat immediately subsided as the man obediently backed away from you.

"that's enough. look at her, mactavish. looks like she's begging to be ruined, don't you think?"

"looks like she needs to be put in her place, sir." soap panted, broad chest heaving up and down. you stared up at them dumbly from below while you caught your own breath.

"lay down on the table, lovie." you slowly complied with their commands, the chill of the metal freezing against your back. a quiet whine left your throat as you began to feel the wetness pooling in your slick underwear.

soap slotted himself in between your unconsciously spread legs, the overcast of the light above him making him look that much more more threatening. thick fingers hooked themselves under the waistband of your pants in order to eagerly rake them down along with your panties. he tossed your garments onto the floor carelessly.

your legs are then callously spread apart. the man above you groaned thickly as every single inch of you was finally revealed to the two of them. you saw price licking his lips, placing a hand on one of your thighs to keep you splayed open for them.

"we're gonna take turns using you, and if you tell us what we want to know, we'll think about letting you cum." price explained slowly so you can carefully process every word. he moved his hand to your cheek to caress it gingerly, distracting you momentarily before-

soap pushed in with a growl, the intrusion stretching you out painfully as a result from the lack of prep. you let out a heated moan, your legs kicking up against his torso in order to get him to slow down his motions. to your surprise, he decided to take mercy on you and set a moderate pace in order to let you get adjusted to his big length. his cock dragged achingly inside your cunt as you whined in protest.

"none of that now, bonnie." he breathed above you, hands nudging your legs away. he seemed very contented at the feeling of your slick walls wrapped around him, muttering expletives under his breath.

you eventually managed to get adjusted to the stretch, whining as the pull of his member deliberately began to feel good. he sped up his thrusts gradually, quickly working you up to your peak. your pleasure climbed higher and higher, moans ripping themselves free from your chest.

"let's try this again. who do you work for?"

"fuck- fuck you."

soap's hand reached down between your bodies to work at your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles that drew endless whines from your lips. you began to feel that familiar knot in your stomach tightening as pleasure raked all throughout your body. you squeezed around him, shutting your eyes tightly and preparing for a harsh orgasm when-

he pulls out all of a sudden, his fingers promptly withdrawing from your pussy. your cunt ached at the sudden emptiness. you cried out in distress, feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to fade away.

"y'wanna come?"

"yes!" you argued, hands reaching down to try and pull him back towards you. he obliged you with a dark chuckle, but refused to slide his length back inside you.

"then you're gonna tell us who put you on that mission. or you're never gonna feel that sweet release."

"like i'm ever gonna tell you- fuck!" you cried out in pain as a sharp slap! landed on your pussy at your response.

"try again, bonnie." soap sneered, finally sliding back into you. you sobbed as his harsh thrusts started up again, easing you right back into that pleasurable haze. before you knew it, you were barreling closer and closer into another orgasm. you panted as you felt yourself tighten around him again, preparing to gush all over his cock.

however, that climax is crudely stolen from you as well. as well the one after that, and the one after that.

before you knew it, you were forced to endure a brutal fucking while countless of your orgasms were ruined. your chest heaved as your body bounced up and down the length of the table, then stilled as soap pulled out of you to reject your orgasm yet again.

desperation for your release began to take hold in your brain. you could physically feel your resolve beginning to crack, your mind frantically casting out any amounts of rationale to make room for just how badly you needed to cum.

later, when you're sitting in that cold jail cell, you'll curse yourself to hell for what you were about to utter in the spur of the moment. but at that minute, when your pussy was beginning to hurt from the lack of release, all voices of reason flew from your head as you finally blurted out, "alvarez!"

a wolfish grin stretched against price's face as you continued, "fuck, he knew you guys were getting too close to finding his operation, so he needed me to take out everyone who knew anything! now, please let me cum!" your eyes screwed shut in frustration, panting heavily at your confession.

"knew you had it in 'ya." soap praised with a triumphant grin as he pushed back inside, speeding up his thrusts exactly the way you've been needing.

a brief image of being brutally eliminated by one of alvarez' men for squealing flashed across your mind, but you didn't care.

you just needed to fucking cum.

that knot in your stomach reappeared for what had to be the twentieth time that night, and you sobbed at the waves of pleasure that raked through your body. you're brought closer and closer to that edge, and finally, finally, you came all over his thick cock, soaking his pelvis in your juices. the force of your orgasm ripping through you made you cry out, moaning loudly as he fucked you all throughout your high.

eventually, white hot pleasure turned to overstimulation, and soap retreated with a breathless chuckle when you began to push at his hips.

you barely got a second to breathe, to process the powerful climax you just had, before price replaced johnny between your legs.

"you're not- you're not done?" you gaped in disbelief. you attempted to push him off, knowing any stimulation you would feel after your harsh release would just border on intolerable.

"just a sec, dear. now i have to have you, after seeing you cum like that." his darkened eyes were glazed over with lust as you looked up at him. his cock was red and angry, twitching as he positioned himself over your entrance.

he thrusted all the way inside you with a groan. your pussy ached at the intrusion, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you than soap. he immediately took to an unforgiving pace, prioritizing his pleasure over anything else. tears began to pool at your eyes at the stimulation, but you couldn't deny how good it felt to have a cock fucking you again.

price leaned over you to latch his mouth on one of your nipples, drawing out a long moan from you. high pitched whines left your mouth as his cock bullied its way into your cunt repeatedly.

all of sudden, you felt overwhelming ecstasy again as you unexpectedly released all over his length with a sob. his hips continued fucking into you for a moment, before he finished inside of you with a loud grunt.

the room was devoid of any words for a couple minutes, the only sounds being the harsh breaths coming from you and price. you finally rose from your supine position, sitting up tiredly on the edge of the table to peer at them.

"did good for us, princess." price nodded with a wide smile. "might have to do this again some other time. what d'you say?"

"next time, why don't we invite ghost and gaz over?" soap suggested, the names making your stomach drop in dread. "no way we can keep this cunt all to ourselves."

[thechanelmuse]

My Top Albums/EPS of 2025

It's that time again where I give y'all my end-of-the-year music list and take over your dashboard. Hopefully some of these projects or artists will be new to you.

I would love for y'all to tell me your faves this year.

Here's my list:

JAZZ

Charles McPherson - Reverence

Christian McBride & Edgar Meyer - But Who's Gonna Play the Melody

Christian Sands - Embracing Dawn

Immanuel Wilkins - Blues Blood

Jazzmeia Horn - Messages

Jeremy Pelt - Tomorrow's Another Day

Joel Ross - nublues

Kamasi Washington - Fearless Movement

Keyon Harrold - Foreverland

Lakecia Benjamin - Phoenix Reimagined (Live)

Miles Davis - Miles '54: The Prestige Recordings

Miles Davis Quintet - Miles In France 1963 and 1964 - The Bootleg Series, Vol. 8

New Brass Band featuring Trombone Shorty - Live at the 2024 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival

Nubya Garcia - Odyssey

Samara Joy - Portrait

SOUL/BLUES (ROCK)

Baby Rose with BADBADNOTGOOD - Slow Burn (EP)

Brittany Howard - What Now

Christone “Kingfish” Ingram - Live in London (Expanded Edition)

Jerron Paxton - Things Done Changed

Jovin Webb - Drifter

Lizz Wright - Shadow

GOSPEL

Cory Henry - Church

Karen Clark Sheard - Still Karen

Ricky Dillard - Choirmaster II (Live)

Tamela Mann - Live Breathe Fight

COUNTRY/AMERICANA

Beyoncé - Cowboy Carter

Brittney Spencer - My Stupid Life

Caitlyn Smith - I Think of You (The Heartache Collection)

Elles Bailey - Beneath the Neon Glow

Gabby Barrett - Chapter and Verse

Lainey Wilson - Whirlwind

Luke Combs - Fathers & Sons

Mickey Guyton - House On Fire

Rvshvd - It's Rashad

Tanner Adell - Buckle Bunny (Deluxe) — 2023 album

FOLK

Bessie Jones, John Davis & The Georgia Sea Island Singers - The Complete Friends of Old Time Music Concert

Jessica Pratt - Here In the Pitch

Yasmin Williams - Acadia

ROCK

The Black Keys - Ohio Players (Trophy Edition)

Lenny Kravitz - Blue Electric Light

Linkin Park - From Zero

Olivia Rodrigo - Guts (spilled)

Sum 41 – Heaven :x: Hell

BLENDED GENRES

Amythyst Kiah - Still and Bright

Boney James - Slow Burn

Charlotte Day Wilson - Cyan Blue

Eva Cassidy - Walkin' After Midnight

Gallant - Zinc

Judith Hill - Letters From a Black Widow

Madison Ryann Ward - Purified Love

Marsha Ambrosiuos - CASABLANCO

Matthew Whittaker - On Their Shoulders: An Organ Tribute

Tank and The Bangas - The Heart, The Mind, The Soul

Victoria Monét - Jaguar II: Deluxe

Willow Smith - empathogen

R&B

Andra Day - CASSANDRA (cherith)

Avery*Sunshine - So Glad to Know You

BJ The Chicago Kid - Gravy (Deluxe)

Derand Benarr - En Route

Kenyon Dixon - The R&B You Love: For the '99 and the 2000s

Kyle Dion - If My Jeans Could Talk

Lalah Hathaway - VANTABLACK

Ledisi - Good Life

Lucky Daye - Algorithm

Muni Long - Revenge

NxWorries - Why Lawd?

Ravyn Lenae - Bird's Eye

SiR - HEAVY

Usher - Coming Home

RAP

Big Sean - Better Me Than You

Common & Pete Rock - The Auditorium Vol. 1

Doechii - Alligator Bites Never Heal

Kendrick Lamar - GNX

LL Cool J - The Force

MC Lyte - 1 of 1

Rapsody - Please Don't Cry

ScHoolboy Q - BLUE LIPS

POP

Ariana Grande - Eternal Sunshine

Billie Eilish - HIT ME HARD AND SOFT

Caroline Polachek - Desire, I Want To Turn Into You: Everasking Edition

Chappell Roan - The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess

Christina Aguilera - The 25th Anniversary of Christina Aguilera

Gavin DeGraw - Chariot 20

James Bay - Changes All the Time

Sabrina Carpenter - Short n' Sweet

Teddy Swims - I've Tried Everything but Therapy (Part 1.5)

Tori Kelly - TORI.

HOUSE/ELECTRONIC

Durand Bernarr & Charlie Vettuno - Charlie Vettuno Presents… Where in the World is Carmen Randiego?

KAYTRANADA - TIMELESS

HOLIDAY

Boney James - Soulful Holiday Sax

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Ella & Louis Wish You a Swinging Holiday

Jennifer Hudson - The Gift of Love

Kelly Clarkson - When Christmas Comes Around...Again

[annaphoenix1994]

Mr. and Mrs. Simon Riley - 3

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Author's Note: Song inspiring this chapter later during Eva's speech: "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw. This song is very personal to me as I made a tribute video for my father when he passed away, so of course I cried immensely when I wrote this. Bear with me if it looks rushed or sloppy! It was a mess in my head with emotions!

»»-------¤-------««

"Oh, my God!" Johnny and Gaz shouted in unison while Price smiled widely at Kiera, each carrying a genuine smile as they were called for the groomsmen's "first look." 

"I don't know what I can say that won't get me in trouble," Johnny snickered. "So, I'll just keep it simple and say you look beautiful, K." 

"Thank you, Johnny." Kiera blushed, accepting his embrace before Gaz followed suit, whispering a 'congratulations' into her ear before admitting that Simon was a lucky and deserving man. 

Price waited for his turn, his cheeks rising into a warm and genuine smile before he pulled her softly into his arms. "I'm so proud of you two, love," He whispered. 

"Thank you, John," She sniffled into his shoulder, feeling him pull back to look at her before his thumb swiped away a tear that settled on her chin. "I'm so nervous." 

He chuckled at her, "I can assure you: Simon is more nervous than you. The poor bloke has been tapping his foot impatiently on the floor so hard that I'm sure there's a hole there when he leaves." 

"I don't doubt it," She giggled. "I'm so nervous but so ready to get this over with. Simon still won't tell me what he has planned for our honeymoon." 

Soap snickered, "We all know what he's got planned." 

"Sergeant, shut it." Price warned with a glare as Kiera and Gaz giggled. 

Autumn had finished taking the photos for the session, keeping to herself to give Kiera and Simon's groomsmen their time with her, Autumn smiling at how they all seemed to adore Kiera, oblivious to their history together and just how close they truly were. 

"Hey!" Teeter chimed suddenly, poking her head around the corner. "Baby, we got twenty minutes before this all starts! Y'all need to get your asses to the end of the aisle because I ain't walkin' by myself!" 

"Here we go..." She breathed a sigh. 

"Take a breath, love," Price assured her. "There may be a lot of people, but once you two see each other, I'm sure you'll feel like it's just the pair of you up there." 

Kristen, Kiera's maid of honor and best friend, helped Eva adjust Kiera's veil and make last-minute adjustments before it was time for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to walk down the aisle. 

Kiera took a shaky breath, gripping her bouquet tightly when the music started to play, holding her position as she watched Kristen and Gaz be the first ones to walk down the aisle, followed by Teeter and Soap, and finally Alice and Price being last, each member hosting a huge smile as they got placed at the alter. 

"Best breathe before ye pass out, Simon." Teeter poked in a whisper as she noticed Simon's nervous stance. He gonna cry... He gonna cry, she mused, especially when he shot her a glare at her words. 

"You're not helping!" Johnny mouthed to her, grasping his wrist with his opposite hand as he, Simon, Price, and Gaz stood in the same position, except Simon had nervously pressed his ring finger and thumb harshly together out of anxiousness - a nervous tick he had always done. 

Hold it together, Simon. It's not like you've never seen her before! He scolded himself. Well, have never seen her in a white dress vowing her love and devotion to me in front of God and the world. Bloody hell, don't fucking cry, you bloke!

After the music that had guided the groomsmen and bridesmaids down the aisle, a brief moment of silence fell before the song played - the song that was sentimental between Simon and Kiera. 

Except it was the instrumental version of "Always Remember Us This Way." 

Simon looked down to his feet for a few seconds, taking advantage of the very few seconds to gain his composure before he dared himself to fight the verge of tears before he looked towards her. Bloody fucking hell, he sighed, a large grin smearing across his face before his hands came to cover his mouth. She's all mine. So bloody beautiful. 

Both Kiera and Eva's faces matched - both shedding a steady amount of tears as Eva walked her daughter down the aisle, rubbing her thumb softly against Kiera's forearm in a last-minute attempt to soothe her daughter of her nerves as they got closer and closer. "He looks at you with so much love, sweetheart," Eva whispered. "He looks so handsome." 

"That he does," She smiled. "It's so hard for me to believe that he's mine." 

"For the long run, sweetheart." Eva assured her before they reached the end of the aisle, Kiera's tear-filled eyes stayed glued to Simon while his eyes did the same, except his tears failed to leave the rim of his eyes. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," The priest began to say to the crowd. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of the bride and the groom. Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" 

"Her mother." Eva replied in a soft voice, tears falling at her answer as the time had finally come, her grip tightening on Kiera's arm before she turned to give her one last hug. "I love you so much, sweetheart." 

"I love you too, momma." 

Simon smiled as he held out his hand, watching Kiera grasp his as he helped her stand in front of him. 

"Good evening everyone, as the priest who has the honor to conduct this sacred ceremony, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to witness the union of Kiera Dutton and Simon Riley. Marriage is a sacred bond, a commitment between two people to love and cherish one another, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live. Kiera and Simon, you have made a commitment to love and honor each other, and to support each other in your journey through life," The priest began. "May the love you share today continue to grow and flourish, and may the Lord bless your union with joy, peace and happiness. May you always find comfort in each other's arms, and may your home be filled with love, laughter and peace. I ask that you always remember that the love you share is a reflection of the love God has for each and every one of us. And I pray that you will always be blessed with the love and guidance of our Lord. It is understood that the bride and groom have already exchanged vows within the privacy of one another and before I ask the couple to place their rings, I would like to bless this couple with a prayer. Please, bow your heads," 

Kiera and Simon were the first to bow their heads before the rest of the guests followed suit. 

"A reading from the New Testament, 1 John 4:7-12: Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. The word of the Lord. Amen." 

"Amen." The crowd said in unison. 

"At this time, I ask the best man and maid of honor to present the rings for the bride and groom." 

Kristen and Price both stepped forward. Although Simon technically chose to not have a best man as they were all quote "all his best men," they all concluded that Price was best trusted with keeping track of Kiera's wedding band as Soap was not the best at being responsible for small items. "Simon, repeat after me," The priest directed as Simon grasped Kiera's left hand, holding the ring at the tip of her finger as he hesitated before following the priest's directions. "With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond."

"With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond." Simon repeated as he slowly slid the band on her finger, his thumb rubbing over the bulge of the ring just like he had always done, subconsciously easing the nervousness between the pair of them.

"Kiera, please take Simon's ring and repeat after me: With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond."

"With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond." She repeated, smiling up at Simon as she had slid the black titanium band over his finger. Fitting, she mused. It looks so good on him.

"Simon, do you take Kiera to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish her, continue to deepen your understanding of her, and treat her with love and compassion in joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life might throw your way?"

"Until there's no more air in my lungs." He answered truthfully, knowing he could've kept it simple by saying I do, but he chose not to - simply because if he could easily lighten the mood by a split second to help ease Kiera's nerves, he'd do his best to slip in jokes throughout the rest of the evening. 

"Kiera, do you take Simon to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor and cherish him, continue to deepen your understanding of him, and treat him with love and compassion in joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life might throw your way?" 

"I do." She smiled behind her veil.

The priest smiled, "By the power vested in me, and with the trust and beauty of you all today, I now pronounce you husband and wife,"

Finally, he breathed, his heart racing in his chest.

"Simon, you may now lift the veil and kiss your bride." 

He smiled as he cautiously lifted Kiera's veil and carefully let it settle behind her head. She's so fucking beautiful, he thought. He cupped her face as she leaned into him, their lips locking in matrimony, the sound of the guest clapping slowly fading in the distance as the moment was nothing but theirs. Her hands splayed against his back as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the couple unable to make their kiss brief as they had been waiting to tie their knot for nearly two years. "I love you, sweetheart." He murmured against her lips. 

"I love you too." She smiled, breaking the kiss to look up into his eyes before they joined hands, Simon taking the first step to lead his new bride down the aisle towards the reception hall. 

Eva was the first one to greet them, embracing her daughter with a loving hug and kiss before she stood on her toes to do the same to Simon. "Congratulations, honey. I love you two so much." 

"Thank you, love," Simon smiled, patting her shoulder. "I love you too." 

"Where's Jacob and Evie?" Kiera asked, beginning to look around. 

"Mr. Price has Jacob and Kristen has Evie. She's obsessed with her little dress," Eva smiled. "They're right over there." 

"Okay. When should I change into my reception dress?" She asked, confused. 

"Whenever you want to, sweetheart. Although I think you two should cut your cake first before you change." She giggled. 

"Oh, no!" Kiera answered playfully. "I don't trust him feeding me cake in this dress!" 

"You're talking like I'm going to ruin that dress, love." He smirked with a mischievous hint. 

"You're forgetting I remember what you told me in London before the ball!" 

He shrugged, "A lot of things happened before the ball..." 

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Eva giggled. "I'm going to go smother one of my grandchildren in kisses and spoil them later."

Kiera blushed, "He can't control what comes out of his mouth." She explained as her mother began to walk away, leaving just the two of them to sit in their mischievous silence.

"Just like you can't control what goes into your mouth, love," He smirked, pressing a kiss to the back of her head before continuing his mischievous charade. "Do you need any help getting out of that dress?" 

"Later, babe," She giggled. "I know if me and you snuck away now, we won't be back in time to cut the cake." 

"I can make it quick. We do need to make this wedding official, you know..." He poked. 

"Oh, you always make it quick," She giggled in a teasing tone, knowing it riled him up. "And our wedding was official when we said our I do's, you do know that right?"

"I sure do, love," He smirked against her hair. "You keep teasing me and I'll give you a reason to get out of that dress." 

She couldn't help but bite her lip, "And if you keep on I'll put it on lockdown until after the honeymoon." 

"You wouldn't dare." He chuckled in a playful tone. 

"You know me to keep my word, don't you?" 

"That you do, Mrs. Riley." 

With much to anticipate, Kiera wasn't surprised when Simon playfully smeared the cake across her chin when it was time for them to make the first slice, although she got her revenge when she pushed a piece of cake into his chin and nose, watching his face flush in embarrassment while everyone laughed at their playfulness. "You're going to take the biscuit, love." He warned playfully. 

She smiled before she kissed him, the frosting still on his chin and nose before mumbling against his lips, "Like I said when you finally came home with me the first time: there's no biscuits here, babe. You're a long way from England." 

"I'm glad I am." He smirked. 

After a half hour, it was time for the speeches of the night before Simon and Kiera's first dance as man and wife - their first private dance. He stretched his arm over the back of Kiera's chair, sighing heavily as he watched Johnny stand at the microphone, knowing that whatever was about to come out of his mouth would be nothing close to sentimental, especially when he noticed that Johnny didn't just have one glass of champagne. "Bloody hell." He grumbled, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.

Johnny humorously removed a pair of pages from his pocket, blowing onto it as if it had collected dust. "I've been holding onto this for a long time," He breathed into the microphone, raising his brows as the crowd smiled. "Although Simon is nowhere close to being sentimental, I can't say I'm surprised he turned out to be a big teddy bear when it comes to the lass next to him there," He snickered at Simon's glare. 

"Love, can I have the rest of your champagne?" He grumbled, watching her playfully roll her eyes before reaching her glass of champagne towards him, giggling when she felt his thumb graze against her arm, seeking the warmth of her skin to soothe him from the embarrassment that he was sure to come. 

"Even though he didn't choose a best man, I know it was a hard decision for him between the three of us, but we all know he would've chosen me if he had to," He snickered. "With that said, I am honored to stand here today as the best man for my best friend. And even though he'll deny it, we have been best friends for nearly ten years, although our friendship consists of many hate comments, I know he loves me. But, before this speech, I got a very clear warning from him about his expectations before I started blurting out stuff about him. For example, he plainly told me: 'Mate, I am forty years old, and you don't need to say anything embarrassing, so just leave it short and safe and nothing emotional.' End quote. So, I had a choice to listen to my lifelong friend or continue to live on the edge. So, L.T., I'm sorry. You should know me better than that," He smirked, chuckling at Simon's dangerous glare that was peering back at him while Kiera's face held a playful and amused smile. "I almost can't say this next line... As I stand here-" Johnny began to laugh, taking a step back from the microphone. 

"Do it!" Gaz and Alejandro shouted from the table, daring him. 

Johnny breathed another laugh, "As I stand here, I can't help but reminisce about the good old days when we were young and carefree. People were always so scared of Simon here for some reason, but I wasn't. I found it quite amusing to get on his nerves. He won't admit it, but I was like the little brother he wished he had. I looked up to him - he had the brains, the dry humor, charisma, athleticism, and looks if he would've just taken off his mask during our time in the field and now, let's not forget, a smoking hot wife," He raised his brows. "L.T., I'm sorry. Teeter put me up to it-"

"I sure did baby!" Teeter chimed, raising her glass of champagne and crossing her knee over her opposite leg. "She got hotter with age!" 

"So, Kiera, I'd like to thank you for your beauty, because if it wasn't, I wouldn't have been here today," He continued with a laugh. "And trust me, Teeter approved for me to say this as she knew it would tick you off and Kyle and Alejandro dared me to do it. So guys, thanks for the fifty dollars," He snickered, glancing over at Simon to see his dangerous glare darken while Kiera's face flushed with embarrassment. "Simon and I have been through a lot. We blew up cities together and got lost in a small town in Mexico... I bet you all were expecting me to say we used to play basketball and football together, aye?" 

The crowd laughed. 

"We were unfortunately roommates, almost-business partners, and on many occasions have gotten into a lot of trouble together... most of it being my fault and mainly being at a pub, but that's a story for a different day. But, since Simon isn't the most sentimental of the bunch, I've had no choice but to bring out my inner baby and be the sentimental one. Simon has always been my hero. More funny stuff is coming, I promise, but I have to be sappy for a moment at least," He assured the crowd, swaying on his own two feet. "Those of you that know Simon well can agree that he is a man of many talents. If you don't believe me, just ask his wife. He's the smartest person I know and it's come to my advantage many times. He's the reason why I wanted to be an expert in explosives because he made it look so easy. His ability to memorize and process information is unreal. On occasion, this freakish gift even makes him money - like that time at the pub in London when he was able to hold a conversation about the Queen for a minute straight - which is surprising considering he was talking to a stranger about this and to all who know Simon, he's not much for talking to strangers. He could've won money that night, but it was really me who made a bet that I could get you out of your shell and made a bet with a random lad to talk about the Queen. So, you're welcome," Johnny nodded, chuckling at Simon's continuous glare. 

"God save the Queen!" Teeter chimed, balancing on the brink of being tipsy. 

"The Queen has passed, love." Price corrected her with a soothing tone of his voice. 

"A photographic memory might not translate to marriage, but I do have a few things that will: Simon is a man of integrity. He is very loyal and trustworthy and is not afraid to tell you the truth, even when you don't want to hear it. Trust me, been there many times. He will always support you - if you've earned his respect - and he always brings humor into every situation. And trust me, if he wasn't on the same channel as my comms that night we were stuck in Mexico, I would've had an anxiety attack," Johnny nodded. "We have all been so blessed to watch Simon finally find his person in Kiera, who is also a woman of integrity, who is very loyal and trustworthy and who really knows how to love people, but I will say that Kiera can be scarier than Simon. But best yet, Kiera gets Simon's dry humor and stupid jokes. She isn't offended by it and gives it right back to him and can put him in his place," He snickered. "This next chapter is going to be amazing for you two and Simon, I can't wait for you to be a great uncle to my kids someday just as I've watched you be a great father of your own. Although I can still promise that your son will be sporting a mohawk by the time he's five whether you like it or not. And if you protest, I'll send Kiera on you. It took you nearly forty years to find someone as special as Kiera and I know that you're going to cherish her for the rest of your life. So, in closing, I thought it would be appropriate to recite a poem for one of the greatest romantics of our generation: the poem is called My Pony from the poet Genuine... edited version..." 

"Bloody fucking hell." Simon grumbled, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands. 

"See how I got him riled up?" Johnny pointed, the crowd now chuckling at him. "I'm just kidding, L.T. I had to go out making sure I spiked your blood pressure." 

"Remind me to slip a sedative into his drink to shut him up." Simon grumbled to Kiera, his face red. 

"But in all seriousness, I'd like to make a toast: to Simon and Kiera, I hope you two spend the rest of your lives with happiness and love, flourishing with each other as you continue to prove all of your friends wrong that you're really a big softie instead of a big and scary man. Simon, in a non-gay way, I love you - your team loves you... and your wife." He snickered, raising his glass as the rest did the same, each holding a smile before releasing laughter at Soap's silly speech. 

Kiera laughed as she wrapped her arm around Simon's, rubbing his hand soothingly as she knew he wasn't used to being put on the spot, watching him shake his leg under the table. When the applause ceased and Soap returned to his chair, Eva being the next one to take a spot behind the microphone, her eyes puffy from holding the weathered piece of paper between her fingers. "I definitely can't top that, but I'm sure Simon is appreciative with that relief," She giggled, watching him relax his shoulders as he sat back in his chair, his hand coming down to grasp Kiera's between his hand and thigh, rubbing his thumb over the bulge of her diamond ring. Perfect. 

"Although I can add some embarrassing stories about my daughter, I'll do it at the end of this speech to lighten the mood because I know this won't be an easy one. Kiera, sweetheart, this speech was written by your father and he told me to not read it until your wedding day," She sniffled before revealing the paper from its envelope. 

Simon sensed Kiera's heartbreak on the horizon. Sitting back in his chair, he stretched his arm behind her and began rubbing her arm with his thumb, preparing himself to pull her into him when she began to cry. 

"Since you were born and you were wrapped in that pink blanket and I smelled and held you for the first time, you stole my heart. I remember the first time your mother and I saw you - you were a little flicker on an ultrasound and I remember asking: "What's that light?" and the doctor told me that it was your heartbeat. The day you were born was the best day of my life. The day you were born made me realize what's truly important in my life. I remember your mother and I used to predict how fast time would go by. Each of us hoped you'd stay little forever, but we knew it wasn't true. I remember when you first went to Kindergarten - standing there in your little purple jumper. I still remember you were so happy to go and we were so sad to see you leave, knowing time would go by too quick. But you changed me. You were always up for the next challenge at age four, ready to get on that crazy little pony that drove your mother crazy every time you swung your leg over its back, from me reading stories to you and to us going on cattle drives together. And when it was your last cattle drive with me, I remember how we raced to the top with smiles on our faces. You told me how excited you were to pursue the rest of your life with Simon, tears in your eyes from excitement and happiness. In that same moment, you changed me - you made me realize how beautiful life is and I'm so grateful to have been able to share it with you and your husband, to see how much joy Jacob and Evie bring into your mother and I's lives - filling our house with so much love at every holiday. And now, your new journey starts and I can't wait to see how you change. I remember when we first met Simon. When I first saw you and him together, I knew then that he was going to be the one to hold your heart long after I'm gone. The way he looks at you is the same as how I look at your mother. I just know your wedding is going to be the most special day in our lives and I know I'll have the best seat in the house. No matter how grown you are, you will always be my little girl. No matter how many hard bridges we've crossed together, I've loved you more and more each day." Eva read with tears streaming down her face, Kiera's tears flowing themselves as her lip quivered. "Sweetheart, I've never been more proud of you. You are such an amazing mother and will be the best wife for Simon. He is a man you truly deserve as you're a woman he deserves. I can't wait to see how far you two go on your journey and I'm so happy to be a part of it. I love you two to the stars." 

[nellabear]

What Comes After

Warning: Angst, Mention of death and blood.

Pairing: John Price x reader

Inspired by this

The room was thick with the stench of smoke, blood, and defeat. Through the shattered windows, the fiery glow of the wreckage flickered in the distance, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. The tension between you and Price was palpable, suffocating, as he sat at the table, his face pale and eyes hollow, like a man already lost to the weight of his actions.

He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d left the scene—since he’d put a bullet in General Shepherd’s skull.

You finally broke the silence. “What happens now?”

Price lifted his head, his eyes unfocused, and his voice was a raw rasp when he spoke, slurring the words as if even speaking was an effort. “What d’you mean, what happens now? We move on. We do our job, same as always.”

You clenched your jaw, a lump forming in your throat. “You just killed a general, John. A general. You can’t just move on from that. You can’t brush it off like it’s nothing. This changes everything.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, but it had no humor. “‘Cause y’know… Shepherd had it comin’. After everything that happened with Soap… what else was I supposed to do, huh?” His hands, trembling slightly, gripped the edge of the table, knuckles split and stained with Shepherd’s blood. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care. “He was gonna ruin us, ruin everything, and I… I couldn’t let that happen. Not after losing Soap. Not after everything.”

Your heart ached at the mention of Soap. You could see it in Price’s eyes—the guilt, the weight of his friend’s death pressing down on him, suffocating him. Soap had been more than just a teammate; he’d been family. And now he was gone, and Price was left to carry the burden of his death, just as he had carried the weight of every mission that had gone wrong.

“You could’ve stopped, John,” you said quietly, stepping closer. “You could’ve let it go. But you didn’t. You went to Shepherd’s office, put a bullet in his head… and just left.” The words cut through the air like a blade, and you could see it in his eyes—the anger, the regret, the exhaustion.

“I had to,” Price growled, his voice thick with the weight of what he’d done. “He was a traitor. He was gonna destroy everything we’ve worked for. I had to make sure he didn’t get away with it, not after Johnny…” He trailed off, a painful look crossing his face, and you knew that was all he could say. The rest was too much.

You shook your head, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “And now? Now what, John? Do you think this is over? You think they’ll just let you walk away from this?”

Price’s eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, there was something—something raw and vulnerable there, a man who had lost too much. His lips parted, his words slower now, slurred with exhaustion. “I’m not walkin’ away from it, alright? I’ll face whatever comes. But… you… you don’t have to. I’ll carry it. I’ll carry all of it.”

You took a step closer, your chest tight with emotion. “You think I’m just gonna stand by and let you carry this alone? After everything?” Your voice broke on the last word, but you didn’t back down. “You think I want to clean up after you? After this? But you—”

Price’s hand reached up to rub his face, his eyes filled with guilt and pain. “I couldn’t let him live, not after losing Soap. I thought… I thought if I ended Shepherd’s life, maybe some of this would make sense. Maybe I could fix it. But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix any of it.” He stared at his hands, the blood still stained on his skin, as though it was a part of him now.

You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the grief in his voice more powerful than any weapon. “I’m not asking you to fix it. I just… I need you to be here. To be present. Because what happens next… we face that together, John. Not alone.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes dark with unshed tears, but the anger was gone. He was worn thin, exhausted, a man who had given everything to his country and lost more than anyone should ever have to. He was a broken man—broken by war, by loss, by guilt. And you couldn’t fix him. But you could stand by him. You could help him carry it, even if he didn’t want to let you.

“You think I’ll just… walk away from this?” Price muttered, his voice a whisper now. “You think I’m not feelin’ every ounce of this?”

“I know you are,” you said softly, walking over to him. “But you don’t have to carry it alone. Not anymore.”

You both stood there in the silence, the weight of everything that had happened heavy between you. The storm outside raged on, but inside, there was only quiet understanding. And, maybe, just maybe, the first flicker of healing.

[teddywesworl]

ok y'all said you want director's commentary so I'm gonna start by saying a couple things about 🪑 since it recently celebrated 2k kudos

🪑DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY LET'S GO

1.

A fun fact about the poems at the beginning of each chapter is that I took two of the poet's classes in college, and she might be solely responsible for convincing me I was a good writer and should pursue the skill. I don't know how she'd feel about me using her poetry to thematically frame an explicit fanfic, but that's neither here nor there.

As a poet, she (I'm not naming her here in case she might possibly name search on tumblr, lol) is obsessed with transformation and with the discord between the material and spiritual self. Blackberries, Brambles in its entirety goes as follows:

Akhmatova wrote, "O look!—that fresh dark elderberry branch is like a letter from Marina…" And she was right, branches criss- cross, words sharpen. We lop them down, fit them into envelopes. But I forget: you don't do letters: Too much tangled in thickets and desperation. Did I say envelopes? I meant elevators. See, I've snagged favourite sweaters in high rises, snarled hair in hedges, given up skin scrapings for blackberries, tongueburst, the sweet stain, explosion under light canine pressure. Don't you just wish you were a dog sometimes? No panic. Romping through brambles. Even in delirium, near death, Akhmatova remembered. Her bitter friend had been dead a long time. Love. Don't think I'm thinking about you. Anything but you.

Akhmatova here being Russian poet Anna Akhmatova, and the Marina in question is Marina Tsvetaeva. You can go on as much or as little of a research spiral about them as you like; many of the layers of this poem are in the reference to Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva, but I was mostly interested in the commentary on the cost of pleasure. I've snagged favourite sweaters in high rises, snarled hair in hedges, given up skin scrapings for blackberries. What are you willing to pay for happiness? Wouldn't it be nice not to think about it? Wouldn't it be nice not to be afraid to pay?

2.

Obviously the other major literary framing device is A Room With A View. The movie, specifically, but obviously the Forster novel as well. A Room With A View is about the clash between tradition and modernity, familial duty vs. adventure and romance, etc. etc. etc. And like, listen, the Duffers have not put this much thought into Steve Harrington, but his arc, despite them, is that of the ultimate privileged 80s all-American masculine symbol taking a slow, deliberate turn toward Otherness. He was supposed to die a static character. He did not, and now we're all writing fic about it.

I probably didn't need to have Eddie literally whack the point home with a hammer with the you're Lucy line in chapter 2, but here we are.

3.

The other bits of ~Art~ in the Steve chapter are Elton John's The Fox and Bruce Springsteen's The River. As follows:

But if you’re wily, you will leave them lying, snared up in the traps that they set for you, Elton sings. And it’s an evergreen affair— Steve lifts the record out and replaces it with The River. Springsteen sings, you're walkin' tough, baby, but you're walkin' blind and that’s not really better.

The Elton John record, you may recall, was a compromise between Eddie and Nancy. The inclusion of these lines in particular was very vibes-based, but hopefully the vibes are semi-coherent. Snares. Traps. The hunter, the fox. Btw the next lines after these are:

As temptation taunts the fox Into the hunter's waiting lair

Which, okay. Teasing out the vibes just a little. Argyle interprets Nancy as Lucy (and implies, without meaning to, that Steve is Cecil--a character that represents old money and tradition and duty and, like. Being trapped). Nancy would probably also view herself as the titular Fox. And Steve has bought into this line of thinking! He sees himself as the snare! He has internalized the idea of life with him being a trap! He is Bullshit, etc.

Eddie complicates this self-concept. Through him, Steve becomes the Fox and Lucy. Temptation taunts the fox into the hunter's waiting lair, after all. And, you know: 🪑🪢

(The Springsteen lines are just. All Steve.)

Ok I have to go feed some horses. More.... later. eventually.